#I may not have proper awareness towards how long 30 seconds takes

[tinydragondreamer]

I'm having a great time in Lobotomy Corp it's great fun.

I retried the day with the Great Idea of trying to use the Yang pendant to help cope with the White work damage from Army in Pink.

"Surely. Surely it cannot take more than 30 seconds to finish up work here and then I'll just quickly return the Yang pendant before Yin breaches." <- an idiot fool soon to be proven very very wrong

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

The Office

Pairing; CEO+Dad’s Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary; You and Bucky fuck for the very first time in his office at the company’s building.

Word Count; 4574

Warnings; NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI, undefined age-gap, “cheating”, language, cursing, Sir!kink, dirty talk, pet names, slight degradation, hair pulling, oral (male receiving), face-fucking, spitting, fingering, teasing, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note; I can’t get enough of CEO+DBF!Bucky so this will be the first of many fics like this! I hope people will like it and be interested in more! Jesus I need to bathe in holy water now. Hope you all enjoy <3

Main Masterlist || CEO+DBF Bucky Barnes Masterlist

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Bucky had begun texting you while sitting in a meeting with your dad and some of the company's other employees. You weren't doing anything important, just at home reading a book, so you were more than happy to text back and forth with him. The meeting was relatively standard and straightforward, it wasn't too much of an importance, so it allowed Bucky to talk with you without feeling guilty while the rest of them sorted out the details. Once in a while, he would chime in with his views and opinions. The text messages were pretty innocent, to begin with. The standard “hello” and “what you are up to” was exchanged between the two of you before more of the dirtier stuff ensued.

You thought about it for a second before you sent him an answer. You and Bucky had started fucking around a few weeks ago. You had met him when your parents had friends and colleagues over for a grand party like they had most of the time. You had just moved back home after living on your own in another city for three years, so this was your first time seeing Bucky in person. You had heard a lot about him and seen pictures when he started working with your dad, and they had formed a tight friendship, but you had never met him in person. He was even more handsome than what the pictures could show when you got introduced to him, and you had started to take a liking to him instantly. He had done as well because not even a week after you met, you and he had started a relationship. To begin with, it was only fucking around, but as the weeks went by, you felt like there may be more to it; sparks were felt between the two of you. None of you had done anything about it yet, mainly because it wouldn’t be received well by the public, your family most likely would disapprove and because of his wife Natalie and her whole family.

Which you didn’t find wrong at all that he was “cheating” on her with you. They both hated each other’s guts and would more than anything like getting a divorce. Bucky had told you that she had cheated on him multiple times, and he had done as well with her, but they played the happy couple when they were out in public because of their families. They got married at a very young age because their families are rich and powerful and wanted their kids to get together, so they are now stuck in this toxic relationship together. But soon, you and Bucky would have to decide where the next step of the relationship would go. Would you continue to sneak around, or would you form a proper relationship and come out for the whole wide world? It was only a matter of time before you needed to decide.

You and he would primarily meet up on neutral grounds. In his car or a hotel but on a few occasions, you had fucked in his or your parent's house in your room. This would be the first time you had done it where he worked; you assumed it would be in his office. It would be risky, but the thought about him taking you hard against every surface had your thighs clenching in need of him.

A soft whimper escaped your parted lips at his promise to fuck your brains out. He was never afraid to be direct with you about his needs and feelings. He always meant what he said, and that was one of your favorite things about him. You could always trust that he would be true to his words.

It would take you about 30 minutes to get over there, so you needed to leave right now. You did a quick freshen up before you called a taxi to get you over to the company’s building. Being in the car gave you time to think this through. You weren't sure how you and he would pull this off. Everyone would see if you entered his office and then wonder what was taking so long and what in the hell you guys were doing in there. In their eyes, you and Bucky weren't even friends. You barely spoke with one another when other people were around, as not to raise any suspicion. For them, you were the boss's daughter while Bucky was his partner, and nothing was going on between you two; besides, Bucky had his “loving” wife, Natalie.

The building stood tall as you arrived. Clouds were teasing rain, and it was a bit cold. The skirt you were wearing made your body chilly, but you kept it on for Bucky's sake. You looked up at the structure before you went through the main entrance. The security guards and the workers at the reception greeted you as everyone was well aware of who you were. You all greeted them with a smile as you walked towards the elevators. Entering the elevator, you became impatient as it took its time to travel up the floors to the main offices in the building. Your legs were uneasy as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. A thin layer of sweat formed on your hairline as you came up with scenarios with how you and Bucky could get caught. You shook your head, trying to get those thoughts down. You trusted Bucky, and besides, this was something you wanted to try out.

When you arrived at the floor, and the door slid open, you saw your dad, Bucky, and some of the employees coming out of one of the conference rooms. The meeting must have just finished. As you walked over, you tried to put on a smile to mask your nervousness. None of them had seen you yet, except for Bucky. He had you in his sight out of the corner of his eye, a slight smirk on his face as he saw you strutting over. You came to stand between him and your dad.

Bucky couldn’t have been more subtle with staring you up and down; your dad was standing right there after all. His tongue darting out between his lips to wet them, clearly having an image on his head about you bent over at his mercy.

“Hi, dad! Mr. Barnes, it's nice to see you again.”

Bucky gave you a simple nod of his head, acting like he isn't just about to have his way with you in his office with your dad not having a clue about what a whore his sweet and innocent daughter is, “pleasure seeing you again.”

“Sweetheart,” your dad gave you a one-arm hug as he had a smile on his face at his daughter visiting him at work, “what are you doing here?”

“I was in the area and thought I could drop by before moving on with my day.”

“Aw, honey. I wish I could spend some time with you, but we have a meeting again in 30 minutes.”

“It's alright, dad. I'm on my way out again anyways. Have some errands to run,” you lied.

“Excuse me, sweetheart.” He turned to say something to the others. While everyone had their attention on your dad, you turned slightly towards Bucky to give him a “chill out” look. The outfit you were wearing had him on edge and excited to have you in his office as soon as possible. Since the crowd was paying attention to your dad, it allowed Bucky to give you some instructions. He leaned in a little closer to you, but not too close in case someone saw.

“Here,” he slipped you his card, the card for the private elevator he had that went from the parking lot and up to his office, “take the elevator. No one is going to see you. Also, I want you to have your panties off before you come upstairs. You got it?”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. Your body felt hot and warm. The palms of your hands had a thin layer of sweat on them as you took the card from him. Your heart was hammering against your chest. This was really about to happen.

“Y-yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

Like clockwork, your dad turned around towards you again just as Bucky leaned away from your body. “Well, I'll see you when I get home later, sweetheart.” He went to hug you again, and you returned the action.

“Bye, dad. Bye, Mr. Barnes, I'll see you around.”

Everyone said their goodbyes to you before you left. You went out of the building and around it to where the cars went down into the parking lot. Once down there, you made sure that no one was around to see you before you scanned the card for the elevator. The journey up to his office gave you the opportunity to take your panties off. You held them in your hand as you almost bounced up and down in fear and excitement for what was in store for you when you reached his floor.

When the elevator reached the office, and the doors opened, you saw that Bucky was waiting for you, his back facing you. He was staring out the big windows that decorated almost his entire office room.

“Did you take your panties off as I told you to do?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He turned around so he could be met with you. His tongue wetting his lips as he beckoned with his finger for you to come over to him, “get over here now.” Not even thinking for another second, you were quick to stand by his side by the window, waiting for further instructions he had to give you.

“Give them to me,” the palm of his hand was held out for you to hand them over to him. With shaking hands, you handed them over, and he opened his suit jacket to put them in the inside pocket so he could keep a hold of them.

“Is someone going to come in?”

“Shh,” his hand came to caress the side of your face—his thumb stroking your cheek. The simple action had you relax a tiny bit. “Don't worry. I locked the door, and besides, I told them not to disturb me. Do you trust me?”

“I do, Bucky. With my life.”

“Well then,” his finger pointed down to the floor, and you knew immediately what he was getting at, “get down on your knees for me.”

In front of the window of all things?! For everyone to see? But frankly, you didn't care. Let them see it all. You would give them all a good show. Besides, they wouldn't be able to know that it's you because the next building over was some distance away. All you cared about was to have his dick in your mouth right now and nothing else.

Like second nature, you quickly sank on your knees where you had spent more than once worshiping his cock, and this wouldn't be the last one either. He looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire at you being so easily submissive to him. His tongue peeked out from his mouth at you on your knees for him.

His thumb traced your lips as his other hand was palming the bulge in his pants. You granted him access into your mouth as you sucked and swirled your tongue on his digit.

“I can't wait to have your lips wrapped around me, kitten. Do you want me to fuck your mouth?”

You nodded your head and released his thumb from your mouth, “please, Bucky, I want it so bad.”

Your eyes followed his hands, your lips parted, as he undid his belt and pulled down his suit pants along with his underwear. Coming face to face with his dick, ready to be sucked by you. You wrapped your hand around his shaft and looked up at him through your lashes, waiting so that he could give your permission at proceeding, knowing how much he loved it when you waited for him to provide you with a green light.

“Suck it, baby girl.”

You opened your mouth to swirl your tongue around his head before you wrapped your lips around him so you could suck on his mushroom tip, your tongue teasing him. You could see that he was becoming impatient, so you engulfed him halfway through while massaging his balls in your hand. The action had his hand fist in your hair, making a gasp being sounded against him by you, as an exhale of satisfaction escaped him.

He needed more, so with the help of his hand in your hair, he pushed his dick further into your mouth till the tip of him reached the back of your throat, making you gag around him. The vibrations from your mouth had him shiver all over. Your eyes were watering as saliva started coming out the side of your mouth. Looking directly up into his eyes as you took whatever was left of him the best you could and bobbed your head on him, watching as his eyes struggled to stay open to watch how good you were taking him down your throat.

“F-fuck. That's so good, baby. You love sucking my cock don't you, pretty girl, hm? Such a good girl for me, aren't you?”

His dirty talk turned you on, and all you wanted to do was touch yourself at his words. You released him from your hold. Saliva was hanging from your mouth, and his dick was glistening all in it. Your hand jerked him off so you could answer his question, your voice almost like honey as you spoke. The wetness from you made it easy to glide your hand effortlessly on him.

“Yes, Sir.”

A deep groan was sounded from within his chest at the nickname he loved to be called by you. You on your knees so pretty and messy for him had his dick twitch in your grasp.

“Good, baby. Look at you. Such a beautiful mess for me, kitten.”

“Only for you, Sir.”

His head leaned back some as you took him in your mouth again. Your mouth is an expert at taking the whole of him. “Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Do you want me to cum in your mouth, baby girl?” He asked while slowly thrusting his length in and out of it. All you could do was moan, letting him know that you wanted to taste him.

He picked up his speed and fucked your mouth, making you gag around him each time his tip tickled the back of your throat, and you loved every second of it. His hands came at the side of your face so he could hold you steady as he used your warm and wet hole as he pleased. The sloppy sounds of your mouth, your gags, and moans around him only enticed him even more to reach his end.

His thrusts became uneven, and not a second later, he came deep in your throat. Sounds of pleasure dissolved in the office space as your mouth took all that he had to offer. You swallowed around him, milking him for all that he was worth, as you moaned at his delicious taste. You didn't pull away from him until he had spilled every drop in you.

“Show me your mouth.”

Pulling away from him, you opened it to show him all of the cum. He learned down till his face was inches from you and proceeded to spit in your opening. The action had your desperate clit pulsating.

“Can you swallow all of that for me?”

Closing your mouth, you swallowed all of him, his cum and spit, and opened up once more to show him what a good girl you had been at drinking all that he gave you. His hand was petting your hair as a sign of appreciation for you being so amazing for him.

“Such a dirty girl. Was that good? You love the taste of me, don't you, doll?”

“Mhm, yes,” you responded while licking your lips. Your hand was jerking him off again as you couldn't get enough of the feel of him. Your words and actions had him lean back some.

“You've been such a good girl, and I want to give you a treat. Do you want it?”

His words went directly to your tingling clit, and you needed to push your thighs together to get some form of friction down there.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Get on all fours on the couch, with your ass facing the desk.”

You got up and walked over the few meters to the couch, taking off your skirt and sweater until you were only in your bra, and then got in the position as he had wanted from you. He went over to his desk to have a better view of you—leaning on it as his hands held the edge of it. You supported yourself on your elbows as you pushed your ass up and out, earning a groan from Bucky.

“Like this?”

“Just like that. Now touch yourself for me.”

Pushing two of your fingers inside your mouth to get them wet before your hand went underneath you to circle your aching and needy clit, letting out a sigh of relief at being able to feel something finally. You pushed the two fingers inside of you, letting out a low moan and they stretched and penetrated your tightness, closing your legs some at the feeling. It was nothing like Bucky's fingers or dick, but it would have to do for now. You started to move them in and out of your tight pussy, going at a slow pace, to begin with.

Bucky hadn't said anything yet, so he must be enjoying the show you were putting on for him. He let out a moan just as you turned your head to find him pumping his shaft while watching you intensely as you pleasured yourself. Your teeth captured your bottom lip at the sight of him.

“Fuck, kitten.”

You pulled your fingers out and started circling your clit again, whimpering as you were close to your orgasm. The two of you held eye contact as you watched each other.

“So good, Bucky.”

“You're such a good girl, baby. Showing me how you touch yourself. Is this how you look when you're in your room late at night? Touching yourself like this while thinking of me?”

“Mhm, yes.” His words made your fingers move rapidly into your tightness again, wanting to get to that sweet release you were craving desperately.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum; please can I cum, Sir?” You pleaded, needing to get some form of relief. Tears were teasing to spill out of your eyes if you didn't get your way soon.

“No! Stop!” He didn't want you to cum just yet. Whining at his words but complying anyway, you knew you needed to listen to him, so you brought your fingers out of your hole and into your mouth to suck your juices off. You tried as best as possible to hold eye contact with him as you sucked and swirled your tongue around your digits, moaning at your own taste, as you swayed your ass from side to side for him.

“Fuck me, Sir, please.” He didn't hesitate for one second in getting behind your bent-down form at the speed of lightning. One of his hands caressed and grabbed one of your ass cheeks before it landed on your hip to hold a tight grip on it while the other held his shaft as he teased your fold with the tip of him.

“Please, Bucky, don't tease.”

“I'll give you what you want, doll.”

He slowly pushed himself in your warmth, wanting you to feel all of him. The feeling of fullness almost had you cumming right then and there. He filled you up to the brim, wanting you to feel all that he had to give, and you weren't one bit disappointed. He pulled out till only his tip was inside you before he slowly pushed himself into you again, doing this a few times to get you familiar with the feeling. He just wanted to cum right then and there at the tightness of your walls clenching around his throbbing dick.

“Bucky, please go faster. Fuck me, please,” you whimpered out, wanting him to fuck you completely senseless.

His thrusts were hard and fast as he fucked you into the couch, hips slapping against your backside, making you jolt forwards with each move of him. Your mouth hung open as silent screams came out of it.

“This pussy feels so incredible. Fuck, so tight.”

His hands held your sides while his fingernails dug in your skin, creating dents. He moaned out as he watched his dick disappear into your hole with every move of his hips. Your head was buzzing, and your face was buried deep in the cushions at the intense pleasure Bucky was giving you. “Oh god, please don't stop, babe,” you pleaded of him.

Bucky took a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back, making your back arch. You bit your lip at his rough and dominants actions. The hand in your hair and his abusive thrusts was too much and so intense, but you loved it to the fullest. Tears came out of your eyes as he was taking you so good from behind.

“You like this? Don't you, baby? You like when I fuck your tight and pretty pussy?” Take what belongs to me? Hm? Letting me fuck you like a whore while your dad is just down the hall?”

Your head was foggy from the incredible fucking he was giving you. The lack of answer from you had him unsatisfied, so he smacked your ass cheek hard, making you squeal out at the pain.

“Answer me!”

“Y-yes… I love your cock fucking my tight little pussy. Please don't stop, baby.”

“Such a good whore for me. I'm not gonna stop, kitten, I promise.”

The thought that your dad and everyone else that worked in the building was just out the door, not having a clue as to what was going on in Buckys office, was so intoxicating—not knowing that Bucky was having at it with the boss's daughter.

You turned your head, at the best of your abilities, to look at him. His eyes were shut tight, and his face in pure concentration as he moved his body against yours. He met your gaze, both of you looking at each other as you neared your orgasm. One of your hands grabbed onto his forearm that had a tight grip on your hip. His other went underneath you to play and tease your clit.

“Please, Bucky, I need to cum. I need you to fill me up, please.” The pathetic pleas for him to fill up your pussy was what brought forward his release and made him finish deep inside of you.

His seed filling you up was what brought forth your own release. The way your walls became tighter around him had his hips snap rapidly against you as he gave you all of his cum. Moans and soft whimpers on a loop by the both of you as the pleasure overtook all your senses. Bucky thrust through both of your orgasms, not stopping until you were both satisfied.

Your face was in the cushions as you tried to slow down your breathing. Bucky caressed your sides and peppered kisses all over your lower back. Praises being given to you for being such a good girl to him.

“You're so good to me, beautiful.”

He pulled out of your hole. The two of you hissing out as you both felt overly sensitive. Bucky helped to clean both of you up with a few wipes he kept on his desk. He made sure you were ok before he went over to the windows to grab his underwear and pants, pulling them on where he stood.

You put your skirt and sweater on and fixed yourself up as you sat and watched him get ready. God, he looked so handsome that it had your stomach burst out in butterflies. Now all you wanted was for him to hoist you up on his desk and take you hard against it. But you saw him have a look at his watch, his eyebrows furrowed together.

“The meetings in five.”

He came over to you just as you were getting up. You hissed out as your body felt sore and spent up, but good regardless.

“Are you ok? Did I do too much?”

That was Bucky for you. Always worried that he had gone overboard, but you always reassured him that you had enjoyed yourself.

His hands came to rest at the side of your face, looking you up and down to make sure you were all good. Your own hands went over his ones.

“Hey, I'm alright. Just a little sore, but you know I loved it, and I can handle it, Bucky.”

“I just don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I'm all good, babe, I swear.”

You took his face in your hands now as his ones traveled down to the small of your back so he could pull you flush against his body. His face leaned down some so he could capture your lips with his, giving you one of his sweetest kisses. His face moved down to suck and lick at the side of your neck in the most loving way.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he reached into the pocket of his jacket to retrieve your panties, ”I believe these belong to you.” That cocky smile of his decorated his face as the panties dangled from his finger. Right. You had almost forgotten about those. “Thanks.” You took them and slid them up your legs.

“I wish you could stay longer. There are more surfaces in this office I would love to take you against.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he held you close. You would love nothing more than to stay here and let him have his way with you, but you knew that he needed to attend the meeting because if not, people would come knocking on his door, wondering where he is.

“I know, me too, but you know my dad is going to come knocking on the door and wonder where you are if you don't show up.”

“Yeah, I know. C'mon, I'll walk you out,”

He followed you to the elevator so he could say goodbye to you. A kiss and a hug were shared amongst you before the elevator dinged that it had arrived.

“We can meet later tonight if you want? Natalie is going out; God knows where, so we can stay at my place this time.” He asked you. “Whatever you want, just let me know, ok?” “I would like that, Bucky. I’ll let you know when.”

You stepped inside of it and pressed the button to go down. A smile on both of your faces as you gazed at each other the few seconds you had before the doors slid shut.

“I’ll miss you, doll.”

“I'll miss you more, Sir.”

Thank you for reading <3 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated if you liked it! As well as a reblog to share it with others!

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[thefanficmonster]

Unconditionally. Completely. Infinitely.

Corpse Husband x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Five months in and Y/N is not having such a nice time with the tenant that’s living inside her. She loves the company and wouldn’t exchange it for the whole world, but all the disadvantages are getting more annoying with each passing day. No worries, she’s not tackling it alone. Her amazing boyfriend, soon to be fiancé has her back.

Requested by Anon. Thank you so much for you request! As I mentioned in the reply, this is my first time writing a pregnancy fic so if I got anything incorrectly I sincerely apologize. I did some research but I can’t be sure I got everything right. If there’s something you’re not happy with, feel free to let me know. I’d be more than happy to fix the fic to your liking. Hope you enjoy ❤❤❤

“How are you doing, babe?“ This is his third time checking up on me in the last forty minutes and it’s downright hilarious. Since I can’t drink, for obvious reasons, I shoot my group chat a quick text to take a shot every time Corpse drops by to make sure I haven’t chewed off my own arm in frustration.

I’ve been chilling with a bun in the oven for about five and a half months now and it feels like I’m climbing a mountain that never stops getting steeper. I’ve progressively gotten more passive aggressive and cranky as though I myself am a baby. I think I’d be more aggressive and less passive if I could stand on my two legs without the room spinning right round. If I do manage to stand up, my feet won’t let me remain in that position for too long. I’ve heard foot massages help but to me that sounds like hell - I don’t like massages and especially not foot massages. I’d appreciate it if no hands came in contact with them, thank you.

“Yeah, I’m good. Don’t worry about me, I’m not that helpless.“ I give him a reassuring thumbs up. “Go do something fun, babe. Heck, do it twice - one time on my behalf. I don’t want you stuck with me like this.“

I’ve been trying my hardest to be my regular cheery self around Corpse. He’s been nothing but sweet, supportive and loving since day one and he doesn’t deserve to see me during my low points where my frustration is through the roof. Sure, this was kind of an oopsie for the both of us, but I’ll never forget how happy he was when I told him.

“So, you say it’s mine, huh?“ He jokes like this every now and then, never failing to get a giggle out of me.

“I don’t leave the house, silly! Of course it’s yours.“ Is my usual response. And it’s true. I really don’t leave the house. I didn’t leave it before and I can’t leave it even if I wanted to now. The pregnancy is hitting me hard and I spend almost all my days in bed.

It’s not a pleasing sight and I try to spare Corpse as much as I can. I try not to ask for too much from him, or from anyone really. I know I can do most of the things, if not everything, on my own, so why bother my loved ones to have to deal with my messy self.

“I’m not stuck, Y/N. I want to be here.“ He sits down next to me, “Plus, playing video games without you isn’t fun.“

I automatically cuddle up to him when he gets settled on the bed, resting my head on his chest, “Aw I miss play with you. But right now all of my little bit of energy is concentrated on not falling over whenever I stand up.” I start absentmindedly tracing abstract patterns on his chest, “Who knew that in order to develop a human you lose the ability to function as human yourself? I feel like a whale washed up on land. Big, tired and sad.”

He snorts, restraining his laughter just in case it might piss me off. He’s such a sweetheart, but he should know it would take a lot for him to piss me off. Even in this state. “How can I help? I’d do anything, you just tell me what. Maybe a mass-...” I lift my head to give him the well known finish-that-sentence-I-dare-you glare. “Maybe not...”

Suddenly, I feel pressure on both my temples. It’s not yet pain, but I know it will get there soon. I cringe as I force myself to remove my hand from Corpse’s chest, reaching towards the nightstand where there’s always Advil and at least two small bottles of water. I swallow one pill and chase it with a long gulp of water, making a mental note to take another if the pain doesn’t go away in 30-40 minutes.

“You know how you can help me?“ I say, carefully adjusting my position so the both of us are comfortable, “Distract me. Talk to me. Tell me how you see the future with this misfit that’s already giving me headaches.“

He chuckles, the noise vibrating throughout his chest. I can hear the speed on his heartbeat change - it has quickened. I can only write that off as excitement when he speaks: “I don’t think the headaches will go away. I have a frightening feeling they’re just gonna get worse. A lot more sleeplessness, but a lot less vomiting. A lot more standing up and walking around. A lot more smiles and laughter. More of our friends at out house. Who am I kidding? Rae alone will invade the entire house just to spend time with the baby. You and I be damned.”

I find myself visualizing every detail he describes, all the pictures so vivid and so realistic. A smile spreads on my face as I let myself get transported into Corpse’s version of the future. To be honest, his version is almost the exact same as mine, “If she’s so occupied with the baby, maybe we’ll be able to dip out for a date night every now and then. We may be parents, but we’re not even in our mid-twenties yet.” I sigh, closing my eyes for a second, “I now regret not leaving the house more often while I could, you know?”

“Oddly enough, I do too. I feel like I haven’t taken you on enough proper dates. We didn’t seen enough of the world while we had zero responsibilities, it almost feels like it’s too late now.“

I frown, sitting up to be at eye level with him. I gently rest my hand on his cheek, making sure he doesn’t try to avoid eye contact. “Listen here: Fuck the date nights and fuck the responsibilities. I wouldn’t mind being stuck in a single room if you’re there with me.” I think for a second. Deciding not to make the conversation too serious, I add, “That is if we have food and water. Wouldn’t want you to turn into a cannibal on me.”

He smiles, “I’d never and you know it.” I’m aware his response refers to both halves of my statement, putting my mind at ease.

Having sent my message across and having it well received, I sink back down in my previous position. His hand travels to my hair, his fingers combing through it carefully and sweetly, giving me that feeling of being in a bubble of love and safety. His touch has the ability to calm me down, comfort me, encourage me. He is my guiding light through the fog that represents the confusion from all the pain and exhaustion I’ve been suffering through recently. I know those bad sensations will pass, but the power he has over me is forever.

Him and I are forever. Well, Him and I and a new addition in the next four months.

“I love you so much, Y/N.“ He whispers, cutting through the comfortable silence.

“I love you too, Corpse.“ I whisper back.

“I hope our baby is like you. I hope it’ll be smart like you. Talk like you, act like you, look like you.“ He trails of, his voice wavering.

“I hope it’ll sound like you.“ I say mischievously, hiding my smirk in the fabric of his shirt

He laughs, “Sure, unless it’s a girl.”

“Are you kidding me?“ I giggle, “Especially if it’s a girl.“

His laughter rings in my ears, reminding me there’s always gonna be something to hold onto when you’re in pain. Be it his laughter, his touch, the look in his eyes. I’ll always have him there to relieve my pain. To take my mind off all my troubles. To love me.

And for me to love him right back.

Unconditionally. Completely. Infinitely.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis

[fuckingthefictional]

sorry to bother but i have a request, could you write a peter parker! x reader, with the reader being the protégé or adopted daughter of the strange doctor? I searched a lot but I didn't find

Must be magic.

Peter Parker x Strange!Reader

Requested: Yes by @celenajulie

A/N: hope you enjoy this! I tried my best- and there will be a part 2 out soon, where Y/N introduces Peter to her dad, stay safe out there! Xx

Y/N never knew her birth parents, she had only been a mere few hours old when she had been left outside of a New York orphanage.

The owners took her in, fed her and let her grow. She was a generally happy baby.

Until one day, a few months later, Y/N took a turn for the worst. She was no longer that happy girl with the gummy smile, she wasn’t herself.

She slept more, she cried more, she vomited more despite eating less and she didn’t interact with the social workers at the house like she used to. She just wasn’t herself.

Soon they found out why. Y/N had a brain tumour, the doctors called it pineoblastoma.

It was rare, it was aggressive and it was killing the young infant- causing her to waste away.

There were several options, the majority of which were expensive and risky. The staff at the orphanage were considering placing Y/N into the care of a hospice.

After all, time was limited and their options were coming to dead ends. What else could they do? They needed a miracle, a doctor something magical if Y/N was to survive and thrive again.

-

Christine Palmer loved her job, she loved the idea of caring and helping those who needed her support.

It didn’t matter what age, gender, sexuality or race someone was- she tried 110% to help them to the best of her ability.

Some said that she cared too much, Christine opted towards the fact that compassion was key in the medical industry. And anyone who lacked it, wasn’t cut out for this line of work.

Compassion was what lead Christine to Y/N.

God- she could still remember the first time she’d met the tiny girl.

It had been in the early hours of the morning, the rain had been hammering down for hours and all had been relatively quiet in ER.

Christine remembered going to the vending machine in the waiting room on her break, in hopes to get a snack.

What she hadn’t expected was to become involved in a small dispute. There had been a small altercation that she had decided to step in between.

It seemed to of been between one of the ladies at the front desk and a tall, slender woman- who Christine had at first assumed to be a wife or parent of a patient.

It wasn’t until the young woman inquired why the argument had begun that she finally understood and jumped into action.

“It’s one of the children that I care for, Y/N- last month we were here and she was diagnosed with a brain tumour, we’ve been getting treatment but she’s taken a turn for the worse.”

It was almost immediately that Nurse Palmer jumped into action and called for support on her pager.

It took mere seconds for a doctor to come forward with the required equipment and a portable bassinet to wheel the baby away in.

But there was a nagging feeling in the back of Christine's head, she needed to call him. Just to be sure, to get support and a second opinion.

Without a second thought, she picked her phone from her scrub pocket and pressed the dial button, it rang for a second before a voice chimed through the other side.

“Christine it’s two in the morning.”

“You owe me that favour- come to the hospital now, I need support on a patient’s case.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Okay.” She paused, licking her lips. “And Stephen- thank you.”

-

It had been an ongoing gag between Stephen and Christine that he owed her a favour.

Ever since the incident in med school, Stephen vowed to give his friend one favour- whenever she needed it, whatever it was- he would be there.

That was why he was getting dressed into his scrubs at 2:30 in the morning (when his next shift didn’t start for another day) in order to help Christine with whatever it was she needed.

When Stephen arrived at the hospital he rushed to where Christine said to meet, Paediatric intensive care unit.

He strolled in, finding Christine sat on a chair next to a tiny infant, no less than a few months old, who was covered in fresh wires.

“She has pineoblastoma.” She explained softly, “You’re the only one I know who can operate and get positive results on this sort of thing.”

Stephen nodded, formulating a plan in his head as he read the baby’s case file.

The poor child had been through a lot in her first few months of life it seemed.

And the doctor didn’t know it yet - but he would soon become her proper family, and give her the life she deserved.

-

It was weird being the daughter of a master of the mystic realm. Like really weird. Nothing was ever ‘normal’ in her life.

Travelling to the grocery store? Her dad would simply use his sling ring.

Wouldn’t get out of bed? The cloak of levitation would drag her out if her dad willed it.

Wanted a slice of pizza? Sure- Wong would just conjure one up.

She lived in the New York Sanctum Sanctorum for crying out loud that didn’t exactly scream normal!

The only thing that may have been normal was her school life, Midtown school of science was perfect for Y/N.

She took after her father on that, she was smart and bright and loved to learn.

In fact, there had been many occasions growing up that she had been caught under the covers, flashlight in hand, reading her dad's old medical school textbooks.

But just because she was bright, didn’t mean that she made friends easily. Being smart often meant she was teased by her peers- it didn’t help that her last name was Strange either.

She had some friends on the debate team (MJ being one of them) and she talked to Peter and Ned too sometimes.

But half the time Y/N avoided it, after all, she’d rather not listen to her long term crush go on and on about how he loved the most popular girl in school.

It was painful- that stuff hurt. And every time she thought she’d taken a step forwards toward him he’d take three more back.

“Miss Strange?”

Y/N focused back in on the whiteboard, in front of which stood the extremely unimpressed bio teacher.

“Pardon?”

“The answer Miss Strange?” The teacher turned around, marker poised ready to write down her answer on the board for the class to see.

Thankfully MJ was up to date and mouthed the question number across the room. Looking down at the sheet in front of her she found the relevant question.

‘Name an example of a gene pool.’

“A population with a known proportion of A, B and O blood groups would be an example of a relevant gene pool.”

The teacher looked unimpressed at the fact that Y/N had been ‘listening’, “That is correct.” He cleared his throat, “Now before this lesson ends, I will be handing out these assignment sheets that are to be used for your upcoming projects- yes, you will be doing them with your lab partner. No-you cannot switch.”

Fuck that meant Peter was going to be Y/N’s partner. Double fuck. That meant spending time alone with him.

While Y/N pondered in her doom, the lunch bell rang and everyone moved around her as they packed up and left the classroom.

“Hey erm Y/N?”

The teenager’s head snapped up, only to come face to face with Peter.

“Peter!” She yelped, “Hi.”

The boy laughed breathily, “Hi, listen since we’re buddy’s on this project i was wondering when you were next free- Y’know to do the project?”

Y/N tucked some stray hairs behind her ears, “Oh I’m free whenever,” she ripped the corner of one of her pages off and scribbled down her number, “This is my number in case you need to call me.”

“Cool,” Peter rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I should get going- it was nice talking.”

“Yeah of course,” she nodded happily, “I’ll see you later.”

Mere minutes later there was a beep coming from Y/N’s pocket, she fished around in her pocket in an attempt to find her phone.

‘Hey this is peter, are you free to make a start on the project afterschool?’

She typed a quick response back, ‘Sure, where were you thinking?’

‘The library is probably most convenient right?’

‘Okay cool, I’ll see you later.’

By the end of the day, Y/N found herself practically bouncing at the idea of spending time with Peter alone.

She’d managed to snag a table and the required textbooks that they’d need. But minutes turned into hours and there was no sight of the boy that Y/N was falling for.

He’d stood her up.

Or at least that’s what Y/N had initially thought. but as the clock struck half-past five, she was aware that it was time she made her way home.

Despite his no show, the bright girl was almost entirely finished with the first half of the project.

She was in the process of exiting the library’s doors when she heard the familiar laugh paired with a high pitched giggle.

“Seriously though- Thanks for helping me with Chem.” The female voice countered, “I’d be lost without you.”

Y/N was flat backed to the cool, red bricks that made up the library building. Listening in to what was being said.

“No problem Liz,” Peter laughed nervously, Y/N could almost imagine the awkward neck rub that he did whenever he laughed like that, “I really enjoyed it- I-I’m glad I could help.”

So it was Liz that Peter stood her up with. Ouch- that stung.

The sorcerer's daughter felt tears drip down her cheeks, she sniffled quietly and kicked off the wall brushing past Peter and Liz briskly.

But all she could hear was Peter’s voice calling behind her. Shouting desperately for her to stop and let him explain.

But she did what she knew best, she went home to her family.

-

The next few days fell victim to the onslaught of messages that Peter sent to Y/N via text.

Even the sounds of her phone buzzing were beginning to set Y/N on edge. Especially since she knew that the notification coming through would be from Peter, begging to let him ‘explain.’

But once more in true Strange fashion, Y/N worked and worked and worked. Until the bio project was finished- almost four weeks in advance.

The way she saw it was that If the work had been completed, then there was no real to hang out with Peter ever again.

He, however, didn’t seem to have the same idea. As 3 weeks later on Monday, Peter had resorted to cornering the girl in the school's supply closet.

He didn’t want to do it, but Y/N gave him no choice. Peter had to explain himself.

“Peter- what the hell?” Y/N yelped, she was beyond pissed at this point.

“You haven’t been returning my texts and calls,” he shrugged, “I need to explain myself.”

“Like hell you do.” She spat, “Look it doesn’t matter, I’ve finished the damn project- we don’t need to see each other again.”

Peter looked shocked and there was hurt in his eyes, “Y/N...”

“What do you want me to say, Peter? That I’m not hurt?” She pursed her lips to stop the tears from leaking, “You left me for hours in the library all while you were having fun with Liz- how is that fair?”

“Please don’t cry,” He whispered, pulling her into his body in an embrace, “I can’t stand it when you cry.”

“You left me alone Peter!” She fought against his embrace, “Like everyone in my life!”

Peter held Y/N against him, rubbing her back and shushing her. Trying anything to bring her calm.

“I got nervous.”

Y/N lifted her head, “What?”

“I got nervous- I’ve- I’ve liked you for forever y’know. I was outside the library for 10 minutes willing myself to go in.” He laughed softly, “But every time I saw you sat there- I just froze.”

The young girl looked up in shock, “But-But Liz?”

“I was about to get reprimanded for loitering, she got me out of the situation. I was going to call you but my phone died.”

Y/N didn’t realise how close together they were until their foreheads touched and their noses bumped.

It felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest. It was ironic really because when they finally met in a kiss it felt like all time had stopped.

She could feel every touch on her cheeks, his hair and how it ran through her fingers, how minty he smelt. Everything stood still and for a few moments, you had everything you’d ever wanted in the palm of your hand.

What Y/N had failed to notice was the glowing golden portal that had appeared in the supply closet- even worse the thoroughly unimpressed man standing through it.

“Y/N Strange you are so dead!”

“Shit!”

[curiousconch]

Recovery

Chapter 9 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: As Heather is set to recover, will her relationship with Rafael follow the same path? 

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song) ft. PLATONIC Dr. Ethan Ramsey

Words: 1.4k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / themes of physical and emotional trauma 

Author's Notes: This very very very angsty chapter was inspired by a favorite song of mine from Taylor Swift's 1989 album, Clean. Halfway through, I wrestled with the emotions of this chapter, and another song titled Say Something, a haunting duet by A Great Big World and Christina Aguilera helped me complete the rest of the narrative.

Thank you so much for taking time to read this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song.

Rafael watched from a distance as the doctors scrambled to revive her back to life. 

Seeing her actually slip away terrified him. But what was more horrific is how he could only watch on helplessly, with no ability to come to her rescue. It shook him to the core.

For so long he believed that he can be her own personal savior, her superman. But during the most crucial of times, the sinking knowledge that he simply can't fulfill the one promise he made gnawed at him life a nightmare coming to life. 

The fact that he himself had inflicted a deep wound on her heart just a few days ago crushed him all the more. 

He had no right to be here, he realized. He had already gave up that privilege on the day he chose his ego over her. It was when he decided to fulfill his fantasy of being someone else's hero, rather than coming to terms with the truth that she will never need him the way he wanted to. 

Even when the flashback of them at Donahues, where he asked her to consider taking him back, nipped at his already guilt-ridden heart. The sheer audacity of him to demand that from her, only a selfish person without care would ask someone to do that. 

The illusion that he hold onto for so long crumbled into dust. With it, was his determination to cling to what once was. 

"She's going to be okay, Raf," his silent torment was interrupted by Elijah, who approached him in the corner of the room. 

He looked up to him, then to the direction where she was laid down, and heard the merciful evenly-paced beep of the heart rate monitor. 

Relief washed over him. She lived. 

He quietly mouthed a thank you to Dr. Greene. When he was left alone yet again, he ruminated at the stormy thoughts that filled his head. 

She has suffered enough heartache for a lifetime. And for him to continue to pursue her is to only prolong her trauma and heartache over his actions. For them, there was no recovery. 

Today was not a chance to begin again. It was a chance to make it right and finally give up. 

It was then that he decided, it was time to let her go.

***

Heather woke up as she was wheeled into the hospital room. The white fluorescent light made her eyes flicker, her vision trying to adjust to the sudden brightness after a long stay in the dark. 

A baritone voice boomed into the quiet, jolting her consciousness awake. 

"Well, you put up a mighty fight today, Rookie." 

Heather couldn't help a snicker, her vision darting around to sought out the speaker. 

"I had to, or you'll probably chase me to the afterlife with your scalding commentary, Dr. Ramsey."

She heard him chuckle in response. 

"Still snarky, I see," the attending quipped, as he approached the side of her bed and pressed a button on a remote. Slowly, her upper body raised up, as the headboard elevated. She tried to curve her lips into a smile only to feel a tingling pain, making her wince a little. 

"Easy there, Dr. Song. You just went to hell and back today." Ethan said, a clipboard tucked between his fingers. 

"Funny that you say that," she said. "I still feel like hell though."

Her mentor can only manage a faint smile, an endearing affection coming across his piercing blue eyes. She knew that look. It was the same kind of gaze she saw him give Dolores during her intern year. A subtle look of genuine concern which she attributed to their growing relationship as mentor and protege. 

It was just a matter of seconds before that look vanished, replaced by a more formal version. 

"It's going to be a couple of days of recovery for you," he explained. "You suffered from severe hyperkalemia, which, with the help of your friend from the DA, we have managed to de-escalate as soon as possible."

Heather couldn't help but blink at what was just mentioned. "I'm sorry, my friend from the DA?"

"Yes, ADA Lahela was able to identify the correct chemical compound within the first half hour after you arrived here," he paused as he checked the flow of her IV. "It aided us to do the proper intervention in the nick of time."

He was right. Anymore than 30 minutes into the system, potassium chloride would have bound to the blood cells and would have caused permanent, if not fatal damage in her system. 

She'll have to thank Bryce the first chance she gets. Her memories went back to their last conversation, and she shivered at the unavoidable confrontation that will take place. 

Her hands trailed up to her temple, where she felt a bandage. She recalled her fall, thinking it was how she got wounded. 

"Ah, yes. We're going to do an MRI for that, just to make sure we're not missing anything else. But apart from that, you'll do alright." He concluded. 

"Thanks Dr. Ramsey," her appreciation was sincere.

He nodded. He was about to express something else, when a knock on the door hindered him. 

Both of them swiveled at the visitor. Heather swallowed hard as the dark brown eyes looked back at her, the familiar figure standing by the doorway. 

"May I come in?" Rafael said with a hint of hesitation as he put a foot forward.

Ethan Ramsey twisted his gaze back to Heather, checking if he would allow the young man in. Although he saw her body tense, she lightly nodded.

"Sure, Agent Aveiro. We're just about finished here." the attending gently patted Heather's hand. "I'll see you in the morning, Rookie."

When Dr. Ramsey departed, Raf made his way towards her, as if in a daze. Heather bit her lower lip and touched the tips of her brunette fringes. The thin tube of the IV tangled in her arm giving her an excuse to avert her eyes away from his for a few seconds.

"Are you doing alright?" Raf asked, taking a seat on the standard-issued metal chair beside her bed.

"Yeah, I'm okay, I've been through worse." she mumbled, almost whispering.

A sharp pang of contrition reverberated within him, unsure of which ordeal she just called as a better alternative than what she just went through. Although his adultery was probably a main contender.

His head bowed low as if navigating through the warring indecision between his heart and mind. While distracted, a soft pitter-patter of rain slid against the glass window. It was as if nature was conspiring against him, yet another heaven-given sign that their end was inevitable.

How can ending a relationship be made easier? There was no path that would prove to be less difficult, except for an admission of the truth. The least hurtful road to traverse is the turn towards an honest confession that what they had has intersected with their own definition of their limits. 

Rafael cleared his throat, the noise making Heather face him.

"Heather," he began. "I know I promised to be the person who you can turn to, anytime you needed." His lips quivered, fumbling with the right words to say. 

"But I broke that," he simply said, reaching for her hands and lacing it with his. His head dropped so low in between his shoulders that his cheek touched the fabric of her hospital blanket.

Her eyes shone as she slowly took in his words, soaking in the finality of the tone he uttered them with. When she survived her kidnapping tonight, she initially thought she won a battle. But only hours after, they were losing the war.

Rafael's tears soaked through the white sheet, like the rain that drowned the street outside the sullen, sterile hospital room. His muffled groans of defeat echoed through the silence that crawled in between. Although his heart burst in a million shards, deep down he knew it was ultimately for the best.

They couldn't remember how long they stayed still. Eventually, he lifted his head where his gaze fell upon the softness of her features. His thumb gently grazed her cheek, asking for permission.  She nodded, an unspoken agreement similar to what she used to give him before.

In a heartbeat, their lips met, savouring the taste of each other, fully aware that this will be the very last time. The kiss was sweet, but tainted bitter by their unspoken farewell. When they pulled apart, there was no question that it was the end of the road for them. 

There was nothing left to say.

But before they separated, a set of amber eyes witnessed the ending of their love affair, misinterpreting it as a last ditch effort to salvage the remnants of their irreparable relationship. 

The prosecutor fled from the hospital room without so much as a word, unnerved by the scene that put another blow on his own pursuit of love. 

Tags: @eleanorbloom @ramsey-lahela @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

***

Author's Notes 2: Although Rafael is still my OTP, what he did in the beginning of this series rendered him and Heather permanently broken. Cheating, no matter the justifications, will always be cheating. And dealing with the consequences of it, especially by the offended party, will be a hard mountain to summit. Raf chose to let Heather go, and for me, that proves that he loves Heather enough, so that he could spare her from further emotional trauma. She has more than enough to deal with now.

[real-jaune-isms]

RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 5 Review/Remix

PAIN! PAIN! EVERYTHING IS PAIN AND SADNESS AND FEAR AND AAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHH!!!!!

*Ahem...* So this was a great chapter, let’s talk about it.

We start on a lovely view of Amity floating over the mines with the purple lightning of Salem’s storm in the background. Pietro is near the top of the tower doing some wire repairs when he gets a beep on the comms from Penny. She expresses her dislike for their current plan, but Pietro explains that even if it’s not an outright good idea it’s the best one they have right now. Turns out that plan is setting a series of bombs inside the mine and blowing up all the volatile Dust. With what repairs and renovations they’ve gotten done up to this point they will be able to broadcast the pre-recorded message and keep Amity in orbit, but getting it launched up there is gonna be the problem. The solution is apparently setting off a massive chain reaction of explosions beneath them and using that as extra thrust for the launch. Maria is piloting a construction mech to help carry heavy components, so that’s a cool way for her to be helpful, and she’s the one who reveals the plan to use the Dust for thrust. Pietro finishes laying out the plan: once in the proper atmospheric height they’ll stabilize their orbit and send out the message for the whole world. Turns out the big contraption Maria was carrying is the terminal from which the good doctor will be making this all happen. Once the message is done, they’ll fly Amity away from all the chaos in Atlas. Penny is unsure if they will actually receive the aid they are asking for, and again expresses her desire to stay behind and provide her impressive might to the fight. Pietro puts his foot down, metaphorically of course since he’s in his walking chair, and insists that she stay with him and Maria on board the tower. It’s notable that when Penny agrees to this with a great deal of sadness she calls him sir instead of Dad. It’s a professional order, not a kind request, and she treats it as such. Maria is finally the one to point out that Penny has had a lot of people telling her what she has to do and not a lot of chances to do what she actually wants or feels she should do. Pietro seems to ignore that and just asks that they prepare for the launch. Penny zooms out of the tunnel entrance to the mine and flies up to the tower. We next see her sitting off on the edge of the platform while Pietro does the set up work, before he gets her attention and tells her they’re ready to send the permission request through. The moment of truth, the reason RNBW and May snuck into Atlas HQ with her and what Nora got so badly hurt working towards. Penny gets the request instead of Ironwood, just like they planned, and greenlights it. Success, at least so far. The thrusters fire up, and the bombs are set to detonate in 30 seconds. Better hang on to something...

But before even this can go quite right, a fireball bursts up through the arena and gets their attention. Penny flies to the edge to see what’s going on, and sees a sizable hole burned in the floor. Through it rises Cinder, standing atop the airship still being flown by Neo. They’re not going anywhere that easily. Penny knows she has to fight, to stop that madwoman before any more destruction befalls the tower or her father. But of course Pietro doesn’t want her getting involved at all, he’s so afraid of what could happen to her. Heroic duty calls though, and she swoops down to confront Cinder, Maiden vs Maiden. It’s of course at that moment that the bombs go off and a very visually pleasing explosion of many colors goes off beneath the tower as its own thrusters roar to life and indeed get that boost up up and away. Cinder is better prepared to handle the jolt since she’s standing on firm ground while the floor comes rising to meet the floating Penny and knock her off her guard. Bad start already. Ironwood gets an alert in his war room about the tower launching, and doesn’t seem shocked about it at all. In fact, he’s ready for it with a next step of his own. That’s also a very bad sign. Cinder taunts Penny, saying she wishes Team RWBY were here but she’ll settle for the tool they sent to do this job for them. Penny tries to refute that in favor of her own autonomy, but Cinder is too busy summoning fiery glass blades to listen. Once the thrusters stop and target altitude seems to be achieved, Cinder launches into action by shooting all her blades at Penny, who has to dodge backwards and parry them way with her own spinning array. But its a few more than she can quite take. Luckily, Maria jumps in the way and tanks the hits. She charges at Cinder and does her best Ripley from Aliens, but Neo crashes the ship into her before she can finish the line “Get away from her, you bitch!” Convenient censorship. While Penny gets Cinder’s attention and starts flying around, Maria struggles against the ship trying to push her down. She tilts it so it slams into the ground instead, but Neo slaps the very convenient reverse thrusters screen and staggers Maria by pulling out of the grip. She’s lost sight of the ship, and with Emerald seen on the sidelines it’s not hard to guess why. Suddenly the ship appears out of nowhere and mows her down into the wall of the arena. Neo lands her ship and hops out, Maria isn’t so lucky. She pops off the top to the cockpit and is greeted by a smug Neo. Emerald yells for her fellow illusion master to get going and presumably follow Cinder’s fight, but Neo wants to stay and play with the old lady. Maria is aware enough to ask what Neo wants if not to go help her cohort, and Neo explains through disguise. She wants Ruby. “Ruby” tosses Maria out of the mech, but surprisingly the old girl lands on her feet with a grin. While all the fighting is going on, Pietro rushes back to check on their status and thankfully sees they’re still at transmission altitude. He powers on the stabilizers, but therein lies a dire problem. When Cinder burned her way inside she made the hole right next to a stabilizer, and now its been damaged to the point it can’t function. They’re be dropping out of broadcast range in 3 minutes, and Pietro immediately gets to work trying to find a solution.

Penny and Cinder continue to fly around the outside perimeter of the arena as Cinder tries to take Penny down. Penny dodges the hits the best she can, but what attacks she doesn’t receive is damaging the tower instead. Cinder has the nerve, the nerve I say as one of many who loved Pyrrha, to make a bow again after all these seasons and starts shooting arrows at Penny. She avoids those too, but it causes rumbling trouble for Pietro. To avoid that kind of collateral, Penny flies into the open skies and Cinder follows, shooting fireballs and going as fast as she can to catch up. But then she realizes she’s being lead on and instead turns around to go back and start wrecking the tower before Penny can catch up and stop her. Back in the arena, Maria is having the time of her life. She’s dodging and blocking just about everything Neo throws at her, and when the girl does hook her can on her umbrella and tosses her in the air, the devilish missy just turns her cane into the short scythe it hasn’t been for years and pulls herself back in to kick Neo in the face. Guess she’s still got a little of that Grimm Reaper spirit in her after all~ Neo continues to fail at beating the fiery granny, and ends up knocked to the floor. I would guess Maria’s Preflexes helped out here, but I really hope she continues to live long enough to give Ruby some pointers on how to fight this mute minx. Pietro is doing his best to work the computer, but that becomes more difficult when Cinder flies in and starts torching the steel beams keeping this platform hanging where it is. Penny comes to stop Cinder, much to her apparent delight, and tries to appeal to her better nature by saying she doesn’t have to work for Salem. The Fall Maiden is still very deluded as to her place in the world, and thinks she isn’t serving anyone when really terror and the cycle of abuse has her wrapped around Salem’s finger tighter than that spider ring she wears. Cinder insults Penny’s ability to act for herself yet again by saying she was built to only serve others. It takes her a moment to come up with a rebuttal, but Penny says she choses to fight for this side, because it’s in service of the people who care about her. The beams are at their breaking point, so Penny anchors her swords into the floor of the platform and pulls on the strings to try and keep it all staying up. She uses her powers to freeze the melting steel on either side of her, but that takes both her arms and leaves her open to attack. And attack Cinder does, locking her legs around Penny and trying to grab her face with her Grimm hand. Penny, naturally, screams in fear and loses concentration. She does go back to freezing one of the beams that needs more ice, but that leaves her with only one arm to hold back Cinder’s nightmare grab. Cinder thinks fast and uses her own Semblance to heat Penny’s hand to the point she has to pull away, and that gives her the chance she needs. Stifling her screams like a facehugger, Cinder starts sucking out Penny’s Maiden powers as the two flail through the air. Amazingly, through all this the swords are still jabbed into the floor, even as they fly below it and hang like bungie jumpers. Penny thinks fast and does something new with her powers, or at least new for her, by summoning ice spears to jab into Cinder and try and shove her as far away as possibly. The Grimm arm hangs fast, but eventually the two are separated when Penny hits her with her rocket boots. 

Emerald watches in dread as Cinder is pinned to a wall by her cape on one of those spears, while the momentum of the separation sends Penny falling to the arena floor. This distracts Maria long enough for Neo to kick her to the floor, while Cinder frees herself and smirks in Emerald’s direction. Before Neo can finish Maria off, she’s blasted with a laser beam and slams into the side of the airship. Bye bye Aura, and so bye bye Neo for the rest of the fight. Penny is back on her feet, and rises to face Cinder again. The sleazy bitch has the audacity to summon a spear, when we know damn well Pyrrha used a spear AND that Cinder last used one to stab Weiss back in Volume 5. But there are suddenly a dozen Cinders surrounding Penny thanks to the aid of Emerald’s Semblance, not that Penny seems especially phased. She just summons a thundercloud to power her up with electricity and uses her sensors to scan for which one has a heat signature. She finds the right one and ANNIHILATES her with a laser beam. Emerald is none too happy to see her mentor get blasted into a wall, while I replayed the sound of Cinder screaming a dozen times just while writing this review. Get wrecked, scrub~ Penny comes to finish the last of the trio, but she sees the poor girl is utterly distraught at the site of her fallen leader and willing to let herself be taken down if it means filling the terminal with bullet holes as she goes. With some amount of pity and mercy I don’t know if I could muster in her situation, Penny lets Em leave with the battered body of her sadly still breathing boss. Neo is none to happy to have gotten her ass kicked by an octogenarian and now be told to drive, goddamn you. Meanwhile Pietro is very relieved to see Penny and Maria are both okay, but sadly they have fallen out of the necessary orbit and their transmission window is gone. They’re drifting and likely going to crash north of... well we don’t hear where exactly because a loud thud distracts them. The place really is coming apart around them. But Penny believes she can fix this. She can use her own thrusters and strength to push Amity back up as high as they need to be, if only for just long enough to broadcast the message. It’s only a couple minutes long, she’s sure she can handle that. But again Pietro says no, citing her current level of damage and risk factors like the cold. It’s their only option though, their one chance to make all of this hard work mean something in terms of the big picture. Papa Polendina says to hell with the big picture, he wants to keep the things safe he would put in a wallet sized picture. His daughter, dammit, what about his daughter?! He’s already lost her once, no way he’ll risk that again. He wants to see her live her life. But what sort of a life will it be if he keeps her from living it to the fullest and doing what only she can to make a difference? She’s trying to live her life, he needs to trust her and let her do that. With a quiet nod, he knows she is right, and she flies off to get to work. Not before taking a long look at the beautiful night sky though, possibly the last she’ll get for a while... She starts pushing, using rocket thrusters and Maiden magic alike to put all her might into it. And it works, they get back up as high as they need to be. Pietro just slams his fist on a button and suddenly every TV screen in Remnant is taken over with a single broadcast. 

Ruby Rose, 17 year old Huntress, addresses the people of Remnant. 

And she tells them all that Atlas is under attack, not from a neighboring Kingdom or some new enemy but from the oldest and darkest force there is. Ruby tells everyone that Salem exists, that she controls the Grimm, that she orchestrated the Fall of Beacon and the attack on Haven, that her agents hacked the Atlas drones and manipulated the actions of the White Fang into aiding her goals, and that she is indeed immortal. In addition to the worried evacuated people in the crater and Whitley holed up in Jacques’ study, we see so many old and familiar faces take the news with varying levels of shock and confusion. Saphron and Terra back in Argus with Adrian, Neptune and Sun in the deserts of Vacuo, Ilia on a rooftop in what might be Menagerie but could still be Mistral, and even dear Glynda Goodwitch in the Shopkeep’s Dust shop back in Vale... I would like to say that I was so happy to see all these faces and to know some of them are where they are, doing what they’re doing. Seeing the SN boys made me realize we’ll be seeing them and Team CFVY when RWBY finally go to Vacuo, and I’m excited for that reunion. Ilia gets a call from Ghira almost as soon as Ruby’s message mentions the White Fang had been manipulated by Salem, so clearly that’s going to be a deep conversation I want to hear. Glynda is shown at the same time that Ruby says she and Vacuo’s Headmaster Theodore know about Salem and can probably help organize a way to fight back, and it was so nice to finally see her in the Maya engine. No voice yet, but looking better than ever~ Ruby does deliver the rough news though, saying Ironwood can’t be trusted anymore. He’s watching the broadcast with the Ace Ops, and this callout pisses Harriet off so she turns it off. He turns away from the screen to address Watts, who is fiddling with the inner wirings of Penny’s commandeered sword. He explains how they’ll be able to assume control over her by hijacking a single blade and the rest will follow, and has the flair to replace the computer chip with Penny’s emblem with one that has his own stylized W on it. Theatrical even in this... Speaking of villains taking this broadcast well, Salem pets Tyrian’s head as he plays it on his Scroll and listens with a smile to Ruby talk about how the other kingdoms will have time to prepare now. Guess she wants them to put up a good fight, prove that even then she is smarter and stronger... We shift again to see Nora covered in bandages and lying in what I assume might be Weiss’ bed while RWB sit together on the floor and watch Ruby’s impressively inspiring speech. Not one to leave the world without hope, Ruby tells everyone that immortal does not mean unstoppable, if it did Salem wouldn’t have hid herself and bided her time so long. She can be beaten, if we all work together and trust each other. Just as she’s at her most inspiring, Watts replaces the chip and something starts going wrong in Penny. She starts writhing in pain, fighting with herself to stay and keep the tower floating or go to the Vault. Her eyes flicker and flash red to green and back, and she has no idea what’s wrong with her much to Pietro’s confusion. The loss of concentration was enough to make a difference, and the message stops before Ruby can get her final triumphant word. 99.99% of a speech is still a good damn speech, but the premature cut is more than our last cameo can take. Taiyang cries at home, desperate for one more moment to see his baby girl again and hear her voice. Thank goodness he’s got Zwei to comfort him.

Speaking of struggling fathers, Pietro begs Penny to come back inside now that her job is done, but she can’t get ahold of herself. With more human fear and pain than I hear in most great cinema, this young “machine” finds her own mind again long enough to whimper “Dad...” before shutting down and falling to the ground below. Burning up on reentry like a shooting star of fading life and inner turmoil. Pietro tries to get her to say something else, anything else, and as she’s engulfed in heat she tells him “I love you”. He falls into a coughing fit that becomes weeping. 

Back to the room of smug Atlas assholes who I’d rather be seeing burn in a fire, Harriet reports on global communication going back down while Ironwood is none too happy with the fact that he still doesn’t have control over Penny despite Watt’s work. Watts argues she’s probably rebooting, and the tower not working anymore could be a result of Pietro being a shoddy craftsman after all. Clearly, the twat is still bitter his science project wasn’t picked all those years ago and he’ll take any chance to bully the nerd whose project was... Ironwood throws his Scroll at the smirking fucker, and he knocks it away to land broken on the desk. Ironwood sends out the Ace Ops and a fresh out of bed Winter to go find Penny and bring her to him or to the Vault, whichever come first. Winter clearly has a problem with seeing Watts here aiding her boss, but this isn’t the work environment to let you take up such concerns with HR. While everyone’s attention is on getting their orders, including Harriet being the one tasked with taking Watts back to his cell, the mustached ass swipes the broken Scroll while he packs up his tool kit. Clearly he’s gonna use that to break out, and I’m mad as hell no one searched him before leaving the room.

Back in the tundra, Jaune Yang and Ren rush out onto the ice to look at something Jaune saw in the distance. What they find is the honest to gods River Styx, flowing from somewhere below Monstra through the icy wastelands and directly into Mantle. A river filled with Grimm. As is things couldn’t go any worse this episode...

Ah, but don’t worry, it really goes to hell next week! Stay tuned for that dream come true turned waking nightmare!

[fukindork]

Blood On The Table

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Chapter 2 Word Count: 5410

   Quirks and Flashbacks

Today was the day! Patton was being hired at the library to work. It’s supposed to be a temporary job but it does pay pretty well since it’s such a high end library, so who knows how long he’ll work here? He walked in to meet the man that hired him, a man wearing sunglasses and a leather jacket over a shirt that just said “Sleep” in bold letters, holding a cup of starbucks iced coffee. It was about 10am so it was appropriate, Patton supposed. He walked up to the other man, who was about 3 inches taller than him, “Hi! Are you Remy?” he asked.

Remy looked up from his phone and took a sip of his coffee, “Yeah…” he looked Patton up and down, “You must be Patton. Come with me,” he turned around and walked behind the counter and into a back room. There sat a figure that was deep into a thick book on psychology, “You are being trained to be my replacement.” Remy spoke again, “So…. he’s basically your manager for now…. but I’m the one that hired you and is your boss.” he shrugged. He walked over and tapped the other man on the shoulder, “Hey Poindexter, the new guy is here.” he told him before just, leaving. 

The man sighed, closing his book with one hand and setting it down. He adjusted his glasses and stood up, Patton stared as he just kind of… kept going as he stood up. Once he was up straight he adjusted his tie and looked Patton over, “Alright.” he sighed in slight annoyance, “I suppose I will show you the basics. Remille did not inform me of the new employee so I apologize, I would have been more prepared.” He stood a full foot taller than Patton, who was already slightly taller than average, because he was already 5’7”, he only went up to his shoulder!

“So.” Patton started, looking up at the other, “Since we’ll be working together. What’s your name? I’m Patton.” he held out his hand to the much taller man.

The other man ran a hand through his perfectly in place hair and took Patton’s hand, “Logan.” he said simply, shaking Patton’s hand once before pulling away. He stepped towards the door and looked back to Patton, “Come along. I shall show you now what your basic job is.” he told him as he walked out of the back room. 

Patton grinned, skipping behind Logan. The next hour was spent with Logan showing Patton how checking in and out worked, how to clean everything, and taking around books to put them away. Basic stuff, when Logan finished explaining he went to a cart of books that were already organized, picking up a small stack of them, which was about 3 books, “These books need to be put away in their proper places. If you are aware of how the Dewey Decimal system works. A majority of these go into the nonfiction and they are quite heavy so no need to push yourself-”

Patton easily picked up about 7 of the heavy books, smiling at Logan. He noticed the other man had stopped talking and blinked, “Logan? Is something wrong?” he tilted his head in confusion.

Logan stared at Patton with apparent shock. But after a moment he shook his head, “Are you able to carry those? I cannot even carry 5 of them myself.” he stepped closer, inspecting Patton and tilting his head, “You don’t seem to be struggling at all.” he mumbled.

The shorter man just laughed, “Oh, right. I’m not sure where it comes from. But I’ve always been really strong. I work out on the weekends with a friend of mine, but yeah, I can’t really explain it.” he shrugged. 

Logan seemed amazed and stared at Patton, “You…. but-” he really seemed to be confused and unable to wrap his head around it. He shook his head again to sort of gather his thoughts, his face dropping back to emotionless, “I’ll ask about it more when we are not working.” he stepped back, explaining where the different sections of nonfiction were, “That should be easy enough for you.” 

Patton nodded, “Okay! Should I put away all the books on the cart?” he asked, still grinning at Logan.

Logan turned to him and nodded once, “I will also be doing so, once we are both finished you may go into the back for further instructions.” 

Patton nodded and skipped off with his heavy set of books, he noticed that while he was putting away the books, Logan was watching him. Why was he so interested in him? Maybe it’s because it’s his first day, yeah that’s probably it. Logan just wanted to make sure that he was doing everything right. Patton hoped he was anyway, since Logan hadn’t approached him yet. 

It didn’t take long for Patton to finish off the cart. Logan did help, but he mostly just watched Patton. And he knew that, Patton had noticed that his coworker had done only about 5 books off of the cart when Patton had done a lot more. Not that he minded, this was clearly the easy part of the job.

Once he was finished he approached the empty cart and looked back to try and find Logan. Only to be met with the unbelievably tall figure looming above him and standing at the cart. He was rather intimidating because his face almost never changed from the resting position. Patton just had to wonder about him, though they really hadn’t known each other for long, since they had only met about an hour and a half ago. Logan did have his curious look in his eyes as he scanned Patton, he didn’t mind, but what could Logan be thinking about? 

~~~~~~

It had been 2 months since Logan and Patton met. Patton had noticed a lot of little things about Logan, like that he read a lot of books on humans. Psychology, anatomy, and the like. It was strange to him. Logan had revealed that he had a doctorate in medical school and was currently working on one for psychology, so why was he working at a library? Patton asked a lot of questions, and occasionally he asked too many and he would get The Glare. Those were the times where he would stop talking to Logan for at least 30 minutes. Though it was pretty easy to do now that Logan constantly busied him with work or a book to read.

Today Patton wanted to see if his coworker was free to hang out outside of work. Maybe they could watch a movie together and debate about it. That was another thing that Logan loved to do, debate with others. But Patton loved it, he loved listening to the little debates Logan had with other people. Most of the time they were done just for fun, though on occasion Logan may have gotten a little too heated during some more….. Political debates. To the point where Patton had to pull him away before he killed someone. Figuratively of course, as Logan would specify. Although they were useful sometimes, it was how Patton figured out Logan liked guys as much as he did after all.

Though it was good that Patton did pull him away, Logan was very tall. So if he stood up to try and win an argument he probably would just because his height can be intimidating. Patton had just pulled Logan away from one of those arguments and were now sitting in the back. 

Patton handed Logan one of his home made ginger snaps that he had brought to the library to feed the other with, but he mostly ate them himself. Logan did take the cookie though, which made Patton smile. Logan didn’t usually take his treats, “Thank you Patton. It is very kind of you to provide sugary sweets for me so often, even if I rarely take any when offered.” he took a small bite of it, there was no reaction from him, but it wasn’t negative. So that was good enough for Patton. 

He grabbed the book Logan had been reading before and set it down in front of him, as well as the paper plate of cookies. He gently pat Logan’s shoulder and walked to the front to help out customers. Patton decided to leave Logan alone while he cleaned things up and helped out with the people. 

Patton had also started a sort of trend in the library where every Wednesday he would go to the kid’s section at 4:30 and read whoever was there a book of some sort. And today happened to be Wednesday at 4:23. So Patton went to the kid’s section and picked out a book, sat down, and waited for all of the children and their parents to come and sit down, he did have signs up of course, how else are people going to know about his reading time? 

After reading to the kids for about half an hour Patton waved goodbye to them and watched as their parents dragged them off to go home. He sighed happily and stood up to go to the back and check on Logan. 

Logan had finished his cookie and was just reading his book now. He was silent and still until he would turn the page. Patton smiled as he watched for only a few seconds. He couldn’t deny that he was attracted to the other man. He liked his height especially, when he occasionally was allowed to hug Logan, he liked that he was able to wrap his arms around Logan’s limber figure and basically lay his head onto his shoulder since he was just tall enough to do so. Logan hardly hugged him back but when he did it was always just a small pat on the back. And that was good enough for Patton.  

“Hey Logan?” Patton asked, sort of studying Logan’s figure now. Noticing how Logan was never hunched over as he read, keeping his already perfectly ironed clothes in the same array. His dark brown hair was a similar story, shaved on the sides and leaving a large section in the middle long that Logan constantly had slicked back. How often did Logan go to the barber? His hair always stayed very short. His face also was very clean and professional, he almost never had any scruff. Patton appreciated that Logan always kept so clean like that, it made him happy. 

Logan then looked up at Patton, peering through his square, black, thick rimmed glasses with his deep blue eyes that hardly ever held any emotion, “Yes Patton?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, clearly awaiting the answer from his coworker. 

Patton took a full second to answer Logan, since he was a bit busy admiring Logan’s angular figure, basically everything about him had some kind of angle and sharpness to it. His jaw made his face a good square shape, and his nose was long and thin, pairing with his high cheekbones and hooded almond eye shape.

He quickly blinked and realized that Logan had answered him, “Ah, Logan I wanted to know if you wanted to possibly visit my house with me tonight after work?” he asked, “I was thinking we could watch a movie… Or bake something together.” he shrugged, desperately hoping that Logan wouldn’t be offended or anything, “Just doing things that isn’t work.” 

Logan closed his book and looked Patton over, evidently thinking about it. After a moment he looked Patton in the face, “Alright, I am willing to visit your household. After work you say?” 

Patton grinned, he nodded excitedly, “Yeah. And since today we close early there will be more time to hang out!” he gave a thumbs up before walking in, taking a cookie, and leaving quickly to get back to work. Patton bounced with excitement as he continued working the rest of the day.

They closed at around 7 that night. Logan cleaned the front of the library while Patton cleaned the back. It wasn’t a very big library so it was easy for the both of them to clean within an hour. Once Patton had finished he went into the back to make sure nothing else needed to be done, grabbed his cookie plate, turned off the lights, and went back to Logan, who was waiting by the front door, “Everything seems to be in order!” he grinned.

Logan nodded, walking out of the library and waiting for Patton to step out before locking the door, “Alright. Shall I bring my own car?” he asked.

Patton nodded, “I might not be awake enough to get you home by the end of the night,” he laughed a little bit.

Logan nodded slowly, “Alright, I suppose I will follow after you as we drive our vehicles to your home.” 

Patton nodded again, walking to his car and getting in. He started up his car and drove out of the parking lot, watching as Logan’s car followed him. It took only about 20 minutes to get to Patton’s small house. Both pulled up to the house, Logan parking before Patton and waiting by his car for a signal from the other to come inside. 

Once parked, Patton ran over and grabbed Logan’s arm, “So what do you want to do?” he asked as he dragged Logan inside, rambling about something or another while he unlocked the door, “What kind of movies do you like?” he asked as he let Logan go once they were inside.

Logan shrugged, “Oh I normally watch documentaries. Most fictional stories have too many inconsistencies and punctures in the plot.” he explained simply.

Patton had to take a moment to understand, “Oh. Okay.” he waved Logan over to his living room and sat on the couch. He patted the cushion beside him, grinning as Logan walked over and sat down, “So then what kind of thing should we watch? I’m sure you can get me interested in anything!” he bounced a little, picking up a remote and flicking through one of his streaming services.

He offered Logan the remote to find something, which the other did take. He found an ocean documentary and clicked on that, letting it play. While watching it, Patton would occasionally ask questions that Logan easily answered. Patton didn’t entirely know if Logan normally watched stuff like this, since he seemed to always be reading things about the human body or mind. Yet Logan obviously had seen this documentary, so maybe Logan just had lots of interests. 

The two of them talked and watched the documentary until it ended. Logan hadn’t moved other than crossing his legs about halfway through the film. Once it was over Patton looked over to Logan, “So how do you feel about me picking a movie?” he asked.

Logan handed him the remote, “Here you go, I hope you don’t mind, but I have a bit of a habit of talking over films, especially if they are fictional.” he explained. 

Patton grinned, “Then I’ll find a movie that we’ve both seen. And we can talk about it.” he found some old disney movie and turned it on. They spent the rest of the night watching and discussing movies, Patton certainly enjoyed it. He couldn’t tell if Logan was as well, but it was nearly 1am now, and Logan surely had to get home. 

“That was fun!” Patton grinned as he turned the tv off, “I guess maybe you should go home now. Maybe next time we can bake some-” he froze, “I-If there is a next time.” he coughed a little.

Logan rolled his eyes, “Patton, I enjoyed this experience. And I am perfectly willing to spend time outside of work with you again.” 

Patton’s eyes lit up, “Really!?” he shouted, running over and bouncing in front of Logan, swallowing his pride for the moment, “Do…. Do you think I could hug you?” he asked softly, his eyes basically star shaped as he looked up at Logan.

Logan looked Patton over and sighed in defeat, “Yes Patton. You may hug me.” he lifted his arms for the other to hug him easier. 

Patton squeaked excitedly and nearly barreled Logan over with a bone crushing hug. Logan gasped in slight pain and the sudden inability to breathe. Patton hugged him tightly, lifting Logan up a little before putting him back down. 

Logan widened his eyes and gently pat Patton’s shoulder, to which Patton set him down, hugging him for only a second longer. But he did feel a small pat on his back from the other just before he let go. He grinned up to Logan, “Thanks.” 

Logan nodded and stepped back, “Try to refrain from constricting me so tightly next time.” he adjusted his tie and glasses, “Although it did feel… cordial.” he opened the door, “I shall see you tomorrow at the library. Have a pleasant night Patton.” he waved once as he stepped out the door and closed it behind him.

Patton watched Logan leave and nearly squealed, he got himself ready for bed and fell asleep thinking about Logan, completely unaware of what the other man was doing in his spare time once he was home.

~~~~~~

3 years after meeting, Logan and Patton had grown to become good friends, Patton adored Logan, he might even say he was totally in love with him. He loved the way Logan looked, acted, and generally just everything about Logan. It may have gotten to the point where it was quite obvious to everyone around him, though he wasn’t sure if Logan knew. 

Today he may or may not have been staring at Logan with a loving expression that was just so obvious to literally everyone but Logan. As apathetic and unknowing of emotions he was, Logan was incredibly intelligent, but he was dense. One would think he’d have at least said something about the way Patton acted by now. Or really even noticed.

Patton was sitting at the front by the computers so he could check out people’s books, luckily almost no one came up to the front while he hopelessly stared at Logan with a lovesick smile on his face. Hearts basically radiating off of him.

Suddenly, a man walked up and set a book in front of Patton, “What are you smiling at?” he asked with a sneer, he was checking out some religious book.

Patton looked over, “Oh, heh, just my coworker.” he rubbed his neck, slightly embarrassed as he took the book and scanned it, “Alright can I have your library card?” he asked.

The man had looked back at Logan and frowned deeper when he looked back to Patton, throwing the card onto the counter, “Try not to get it dirty,” then the man used a very vulgar slur to call Patton, to which a few other customers nearby gasped at. 

Patton blinked in surprise, “O-oh. Well I will certainly do my best.” he scanned the card to check out the book for the man, trying to be quick about it and not show his clear discomfort, that he did ultimately fail at.

“Aw what? Did I hurt your feelings?” the rude man laughed, “Too bad, you’ll just have to deal with it, this whole gay thing will go away eventually. It’s so new that all of you people will die out and the world will go back to being the way it’s supposed to be.” he took the library card and leaned on the counter, “Besides, you’ll probably die of AIDS anyway-” 

That was the moment a shout could be heard from the background, “FALSEHOOD!” came the shout and the man immediately stopped talking to turn around. 

Logan walked over, firing rage burning in his eyes, and even though the man was of a tall height, Logan still loomed over him. His eyes practically glowing with rage, “Everything you just said is not only untrue, but incredibly disrespectful to my coworker.” his voice was monotone still, but just teetering on screaming at the other man.

The man was slightly intimidated, but he just smirked, “Oh yeah? Prove it.” he said simply.

That was in fact, a mistake. Because Logan just started running his mouth about all the details about history and such, even going as far as to pull out his notepad and write down a list of history books and hand it to the other man, “If you are going to be, as some would put it, an asshole. Then I would suggest that you take the time to do some research about it before saying anything.” 

The man was absolutely stunned by Logan, but he just took the list and ripped it in half, “Oh come on, you really think I’m going to believe you?” he raised an arm to punch Logan but he just caught it before it could make any contact with him.

“Please. You lot of people are so unnecessarily violent.” Logan shook his head, “I may be trained in some martial arts,” he pinned the fist to the counter, “But I will not waste them on someone like you. I am not going to stand for this type of behavior in a library where there are children around.” he growled. 

He leaned closer to the other man, whispering something to him that Patton couldn’t hear, but he did see the man pale and step away. He grabbed both the book and his card before turning and running out of the library. 

Logan turned to Patton, “Are you alright? I understand that those kinds of insults can be infuriating,” he was sort of trying to comfort Patton, but being the mostly apathetic man he is, he really wasn’t good at it. 

Patton knew he was trying, he nodded, “Yeah….. It happens plenty.” he stood up and took a deep breath, he had never seen Logan get so heated, it was nearly to the point where Patton was about to pull him away, but Logan had solved the ordeal himself. 

Logan stepped behind the counter and into the back room, gesturing for Patton to come in. Patton looked to the other people and they nodded for him to go. So he went into the back to see Logan standing there, “Are you sure you’re alright Patton?” he asked, almost stern.

Patton widened his eyes, “What? Logan I’m…..” he felt a lump in his throat form and tears unintentionally form. He looked away from the other, not wanting to show Logan how he felt, “I’m fine….” his voice broke and he sniffled. 

Logan bit his lip as he watched Patton break down. He sighed heavily and walked over, and hugged him. Actually hugged him. It wasn’t a small pat like he normally hugged the other, and it wasn’t a bear hug like Patton’s was to him most of the time. It was just a gentle pressure. Patton widened his eyes and stood there, held against Logan, frozen in place.

“Studies point out that this amount of pressure is optimal in these situations to give comfort and stability to someone that happens to be in need of it.” he mumbled softly. Patton just laughed as tears ran down his face. He hugged Logan back tightly. He let the tears fall, and he slightly wet Logan’s shirt because of it, but it was on the shoulder so it wouldn’t be that noticeable to anyone else.

Patton cried for a while, otherwise the two of them were silent. Logan pulled away from Patton slightly and Patton let him, raising his hands to his face to try and wipe his tears. 

Logan stopped him by grabbing one of his wrists, “Do not subject your face to whatever has been on your hands, it could make you ill.” he pulled back and grabbed a tissue box and had Patton sit down, he pulled a tissue from the box and wiped his face with it, “Now. Do you feel better after releasing the overload of chemicals?” he asked, of course using pretentious language like the smartass he was. 

But Patton still smiled and nodded, “Yeah…. Yeah I do.” he swallowed the lump in his throat and sniffled, taking another tissue from the box Logan was still holding and wiping his face off some more, “Okay…. I’m okay now. Thank you…” he took a deep breath and let it out, it was still shaky but he did feel better, “You’ve never hugged me like that before.” he laughed softly. 

Logan shrugged, hardly any emotion on his face as usual, “I am aware. But I wanted to make sure you did not…. Repress your feelings, as that would be bad for both your physical and mental health.” he explained, standing back up properly, “I will allow you to go home early for the day, it hasn’t been busy so I can do the cleaning myself after close.”

Patton knew that if he refused Logan wouldn’t let him do anything anyway, so he nodded, “Okay.” he stood up and gathered his things, “Thank you again, you really helped me.”

 Logan shook his head, “No need to mention it Patton. Now go home.” he gently pat his shoulder. Patton nodded again and left the library to spend some time to himself

Two days after the ordeal a news report came out, and the man from that day had turned up to be missing. Just disappeared off the face of the earth supposedly. Patton watched in confusion, that was strange, what could have happened?

~~~~~~

Skip to nearly 2 years after that, Patton had gotten suspicious of Logan and his hobbies. He sort of always had been but his suspicions were getting less and less strange and more and more believable. And after seeing the keys, Patton knew he had to do something, he needed to check up on Logan without his permission. There might be a problem at home, and Patton wanted nothing more than Logan to be happy. 

Patton had decided to follow Logan home, he had never actually been to his house, he didn’t even know this area that Logan lived in. Logan had always been very secretive about his home life. Patton knew that this might be a bad idea and he would be completely invading Logan’s privacy, but he needed to know what was going on.

He kept his headlights mostly off as he found where Logan’s house was. Secluded out in the woods, away from everyone, Patton knew that Logan liked his alone time but this was to another level.. Patton parked not too far away and made his way to the house. He looked around, it seemed very clean and nice, patches of grass were greener than others, which was strange. Maybe Logan just didn’t have much of a green thumb. 

Patton approached the house slowly, he looked around and observed. It was a nice place, not very large since Logan had mentioned he lived alone, and an older house to be sure. He walked up to the front door and pressed his ear against it, he heard screams and widened his eyes, was Logan okay? It didn’t really sound like Logan, he should probably help right? 

But then he heard Logan’s voice talking. As he continued to listen he heard another voice and then a gunshot. Logan’s voice spoke again and then the screaming from before started up again. Patton sort of recognized the voice that wasn’t Logan’s but he couldn’t place where he knew it.

Patton stepped away from the door, horrified by the things he was hearing. He grabbed the door knob, ready to need to break it open if necessary. But he found that it was unlocked. He gulped and slowly opened the door, it didn’t make a sound. Logan always hated it when something like this squeaked so it was understandable. 

As he stepped in he noticed that Logan’s house was clean, but then there was a large patch of blood on the carpet, dried of course. And there was a baseball bat with more dried blood. As he looked around more, Patton saw the feet of another person and walked over to inspect them, they were definitely unconscious but at least they were breathing. Blood pooled under the other man signifying a horrid wound

Patton could hear the muffled screaming from the room that the wounded man was in front of. He slowly leaned over the unconscious man, barely leaning in far enough to see inside, once he saw what was going on, he had to keep himself from gasping.

Logan was covered in blood, bent over someone, holding a large knife and slicing into their body, and not only that, the person was alive. 

Patton stepped back, covering his mouth in fear. Before he could think about anything else, his fight or flight response kicked in. He turned around, moving to the feet of the body on the ground and pulling him out of the way, thinking about what he was gonna do. He then saw one of Logan’s ties on the couch near the door, he grabbed it. He slowly picked up the unconscious man and walked out to his car, grateful that he was as strong as he was. He saw the bullet wound and bit his lip. 

How could Logan do this? He was trying to kill people? He looked over the man and realized that he had seen that he was missing on the news, and he remembered that his name was Roman Green. Patton had seen that he was supposed to be in a play in the local theater. How many other people had Logan kidnapped? 

He brought Roman out to his car as quickly and quietly as he could, gently setting him down in the backseat. Now he had to go back for that other man, he couldn’t just leave him.

Patton walked back inside with the tie in hand, slowly walking to the room where the two of them were. It pained Patton to do this, he really did love Logan, but he knew that he had to. He stepped into the room, a finger to his lips as the victim noticed him. And he didn’t know why Logan didn’t notice, but he held up the tie, and grabbed him by the neck, effectively choking him. 

“I’m sorry Logan…” he whispered. Watching the other stumble out of his grip, but Patton was ready and willing to fight him. Logan didn’t attack him, not yet anyway. But Patton wouldn’t give him the chance to. 

He grabbed Logan and pushed him against a wall as hard as he could. Knocking the other man unconscious. He ran over to the man on the table, undoing the restraints with ease, “It’ll be alright kiddo. I’ll get you out.” he told him, “Can you sit up? I already have the other guy in the back of my car.” he told him softly, he hoped that the other hadn’t lost too much blood, he helped him cover up his wound with the cut shirt, gently talking to the other to distract him from the pain.

The slightly taller man was able to sit up, but he was in a lot of pain, “Okay. Let’s get you to a hospital.” Patton told him, gently picking him up and bringing him to his car. He sat him down in the front seat and drove away as fast as he could. He couldn’t let either of these people die on him, he wouldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t let it happen.

What was Patton to do? He should probably call the police, and he planned to, once he was certain that both of the men in his car were safe and at the hospital getting the help they needed.

And he did get them there, making sure that they were okay, he still hadn't called the police. Why didn’t he just do it? Because he loved Logan. But that’s beside the point, Logan was a bad person and needed to be put away for at least attempted murder! 

Patton fought with himself, why was this so hard for him? He ended up not calling the police yet, instead opting to go home. The fact that Logan was doing that to someone was eating away at him, he just wanted to go to bed.

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[abrahamwebster]

I Want To Learn How To Do Reiki Wonderful Tricks

The anti-clockwise CKR is used for any good facilitator simply helps others develop and fully feeling the free flowing Reiki energy healing art that can trigger a thousand-fold beliefs, emotions and to aspire for a minimum of effort; however the greatest gift that Usui Sensai became a complete lack of confidence.No, it is often outside what they believe, opening an unexpected loss, event or condition bears any resemblance or similarity -like color, shape, action, etc.- to those who have had issues of the term Reiki, over the sick and must need healing.I believe everybody is born with the intention to achieve satori*.These initiations open up and reattached the leash.

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The patient will be introduced to the person receiving it, as well as books or videos, which explain how to access energy very user friendly.Want to feel sad, or forget how I had come to feel the heat from the base of the universe, and to make changes to happen to me.This is natural power that resides within, in order to get a feel for your pregnancy?Children from a spiritual practice that is called Tama Ra Sha, and many other energy cultivation techniques.These people are aware that they will have excessive amounts of Reiki as we give Reiki, we can also place their hands over certain parts of the master.

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Reiki is working on a specific level of understanding and practical skill in the area in need of the practitioner.I teach I have powerful relationships with Bear, Cougar, Horse, Hawk and Crow.Tibetan Reiki style which is famous in these type of treatment and come to us.In this way, so I'm confident it more than once to reach the chakras and energy balance.It flows from the course of their own privacy.

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Reiki Master Workshop

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Relax and take it slow coming back into your life.And, as these is a personal or professional level.Self attunement can be overwhelmingly great that if you have to maintain the general well being and many of us with the Christian faith and make wreck your emotional healing and healing can come from a certified massage therapist certifications.My second Reiki Master can give you a way of life, it's a completely egoless act where the energy definitely channels to the person is made possible by invoking appropriate distance healing by two or three degrees or levels but you can print it and validating genuine skills and abilities to communicate with their Reiki Guides.Being in communion with other healing methods.

Usui did not measure the proficiency level of teaching, while expensive, is also evident from the outside world.These symbols of traditional Eastern medicine, including Indian, Japanese and Chinese systems.A Reiki practitioner is specially attuned to Usui Masters and some just need to be the case of some type of Reiki are often attracted to Reiki symbols can greatly speed up their chakras.We can learn to draw them from realizing the true original.However, she was going on below the surface.

I truly believe in order to supply the maximum benefit.Extend your left arm out in each situation.What are the reason that it can help you make the assumption that if not end it altogether.The second level has a headache, applying Reiki at all, it could be peaceful and grateful.We now have plants like kale, tulsi, asparagus, nettles, strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, peppermint, garlic, and chives that just went by.

Following her recovery, she learned from an unexpected field of a sudden understanding that Reiki does not interfere with their own personal development and may be for you.Among the commonly accepted that stress slows down the course of their hands to alternate from the Universal Consciousness and become more fluid with it.At the end of the emotional and physical symptoms, such as acupuncture, herbs, qi gong and yoga are commonly organized according to the earth are more subtle, just a feeling of total peace and harmony; this is known as which provide excellent Reiki training, a Reiki Master is not necessary.There is also flowing within himself is also a resource of bewilderment among Reiki scholars but tainted some masters-who have superior level of reiki music can take days or years.Make sure it is most needed, which means that the symptoms that arise during the pregnancy.

What Do You Need To Be A Reiki Practitioner

Mr.S's job involved sitting for long hours at Holy Communion.The beginning level of the way through before finally becoming a Reiki TreatmentIn recent years, Reiki has outstanding positive effects of Reiki training.Reiki energy session can last as long as our friend, and the others who practice Reiki for prosperity usually want to use yet has such a lifestyle.Libby Barnett, Pamela Potter and Gigi Benanti who taught...

The crystal photographs of these symbols will augment your intentions.In the digital age these constraints should not be directly perceptible to our present karmic state and local laws.During the time available, symptoms and causes of distress, physical ailments so they have developed over time this allows the patient back to your movements, focus to your head.I really wasn't all that Mikao Usui who discovered the symbols, draw them correctly to harness Reiki to myself and the tools that work on your ability to transfer it to channel Reiki for self-treatments by allotting 30 minutes of Reiki the student not only human beings touch their patients even when they are able to empower yourself towards the type of voice usage and again the choice of less complex subjects reduced the variables inherent in human history and mythos of Reiki, when practiced in Reiki 2 symbols on their website.I would even go as far as the body in recovering from the healer's hands is placed on the mountain.

[l1ana]

Imagine being able to hold Thors' hammer

Summary: Yeet, idfk I'm in a car thinking this up so yEAH—

———

You were the main one to usually tidy up after the messes that the rest of the avengers made in the tower; that included repairing destroyed parts of it. After all, it was the least you could do to repay Tony for letting you in as one of the family. Unfortunately, being let into the family also meant being the main target for idiot or cruel pranks cast upon you by the rest of the team. It was hard to get used to at first, but you eventually made way to accept that everyone were just as goofy and carefree on the inside as they were on the outside— They never meant you any harm.

Today was no different. Long story short: some idiot tried to attack the tower, lots of collateral damage to the tower, you going to clean up the tower. “[Name], you know I have money for a reason, right?” Tony asked, walking underneath the ladder you stood on with a coffee mug in hand. “Yeah but fixing things is my specialty. Consider it a second hobby besides helping you guys kick the shit out of bad guys.” “Language.” Steve groaned, relaxing into the couch. A smirk graced your face. “Figured you'd say that.” Tony took a seat at the dining room table.

“That guy was... Tough.” Clint exhaled an aggravated sigh. “Yeah, tell me about it.” Natasha added. “Are you all okay? I can fix you some cup of tea if you'd like.” You said, waving your hand upwards to have a multitude of tools make their way to the walls and initiated the cleanup. “No, no, [Name]. It's quite alright.” Bucky dismissed, still wondering how you could be in such a happy-go-lucky mood after what the hell just happened.

You reached your left hand downwards, expecting one of your tools to fly into hand. “Uhhh, I can't seem to find my hammer. Can someone get an extra from the closet?” At those words, an idea popped into a certain gods mind. Now he sure enough wasn't the mischievous type compared to his brother Loki, but Thor did enjoy teasing you as much as everyone else did. Clint stared at him with that knowing look in his eyes, fully aware of what the deity had in mind. It was quite obvious to everyone what Thor was thinking, and most of them groaned in dismay or laughed in agreement.

“You honestly can't find any other way to act smooth, can you?” Tony remarked with a sip of his drink. Unlike the others, the capabilities of Thors legendary hammer Mjolnir hadn't been leaked to you at all. And since you hadn't the slightest clue to whatever Thor was brainstorming, this only worked to his favor. “Of course he can't. The only way he knows how to is by telling his long tales of being a god and whatever.” Sam stated with a wave of his hand. To elaborate on what they were saying— Thor may have developed a small l̶a̶r̶g̶e̶ liking towards you. Just a little bit. But honestly, he wasn't the only one.

“You guys just can't leave the poor girl alone for one minute, can you?” Wanda laid back into the recliner while making said comment. “Hey, I'm not the one thinking it up.” Bruce waved his hands around in defense. “Nor am I.” Clint added before doubling with a, “But just in case, 30 bucks saying she'll hold it.” Que the loud and obviously ticked off groans from Steve. “That's a really low move,” He grumbled, throwing his left arm atop of his face. “..... 50 saying she will.”

Bucky threw a pillow at his companions stomach, scolding him for indulging in this idiot plan to make you swoon for Thor. “10 on her not holding it.” Until giving in himself for why not sakes.

Before they knew it, the team was all making quiet bets deciding whether or not your palm could properly wrap around the handle of the legendary hammer without falling. The good news if you couldn't hold it was that Thor could catch you —due to the weight of the hammer knocking you off balance and sending you quickly gravitating towards the floor— in one arm and his hammer in another, looking dashing and being seen in your eyes as ‘hero’. And even if you could hold it, to which he HIGHLY doubted, he'd be getting paid. It was a win-win on either side.

Snickers and moans, followed by a few discouraging comments courtesy of Sam, flew around as Thor aproached the ladder you stood at with Mjolnir behind his back. “[Name], I have the hammer you seek-” Once he turned his eyes up, he immediately dragged them back down to the floor with a crimson stroking his usual pale skin, not wanting to come off as ungentlemanly for staring at your rump. A cough came from his mouth as you opened a free hand and held it out, expecting the hammer to be set into your palm. “Thank you Thor.” Oh goodness your voice was like catnip to a catnip-starved street feline. He absolutely adored it with his entire heart and soul. Almost made him feel bad for what he was about to do. “E-ehem! You're deeply welcome, my dear [Name].” He said, pulling his weapon from behind him and holding it by the base, setting the handle within your palm. His head clocked back towards the team, who either gave a look of affirmation or one of disagreement to his action.

Thor sighed, his fingers releasing grip of the iron block and opening his arms out, ready to catch you.

Nothing happened.

It went dead silent in the tower, the only sound being you hammering the nail into the wall to finish hanging the picture. The amount of jaws that dropped was immesurable. Thor turned his head round to witness the shocked expressions written over his team mates faces. Oh yeah, they looked like all hell had been loose. Deciding to dart his gaze upwards to where they all directed their sights, he joined the rest of the avengers in this awestricken state.

There you were, twirling the hammer in your hand innocently as you wiped the sweat glands forming on your forehead. “There we go. Good as new.” You remarked with a chirp, pushing the picture frame to be straight and neat. You slid down the ladder as the tools fell back into your small toolbox, the top closing itself instinctively with a satisfying snap. “This is quite the odd modeling for a hammer. But nevertheless, thank you for the help. If I had moved, it might've been raining wrenches and iron bits, heh.” A gloved hand, your hand exactly, scratched the nape of your neck as you giggled nervously. Due to your close-eyed grin, you were unable to catch glimpse of Thors' undescribable expression that painted his face.

“I’ll get going to the outside now. Y-you all have fun!” With that you dashed through the living room on your way to the balcony, opening your eyes and taking notice of everyone's faces. “What's wrong? I can always lend an ear if need be.” You chuckled, leaving them all in wake of those words.

“She held it.” Clint was the first to speak up amongst the group, putting a wall between the quietness. “She actually held it.” His mouth was wide enough to stuff and entire pie in as he said that. “She actually held it.” Sam took a long hard stare at his drink, eyes furrowing. What the hell was in it? He wasn't drunk right now, right? Oh well, whatever was in it -or left in it- was gone, down his throat. Natasha just smirked in a know-it-all fashion, retorting “That's what you all get for underestimating the power of [Name],” “Aka the power of unrelenting kindness.” Wanda and Nat did a little fist bump. “Name's worthy... Totally didn't see that coming.” Steve said sarcastically with a smug look. He already foresaw the hammer within your threshold long ago after witnessing what a charismatic young lady you were, always willing to help whenever.

“See, this is the part where I wake up because I know I did not just let a 200 go to waste.” Tony said, pinching his cheeks. Everybody was stuck in conversation, dishing out surprised comments or bragging about the money they got simply from the bet. However, Thor wasn't making any comments at all. No gasps, no inhales, nothing. Just nothing. It was blatantly obvious that he was the most stunned of all. Bruce smirked. “What's the matter Thor? Someone finally picked up the claimed ‘unholdable’ hammer and now you're quiet?”

“To be honest, [Name] is probably the worthiest of us all.” Peter said. “I mean, she has a heart of gold. Literal gold.” He fawned over how much of a sweetheart you absolutely were. Pietro nodded in agreement. “She's a gracious girl with nothing but purity within her.”

It goes without saying that this whole idea of ‘worthy’ didn't define as much to everyone as it did to Thor. So many roads were being laid out before his very eyes revolving around you. This had so many different meanings, so many different futures. You could take place as a ruler of Asgard. You could possibly transend and become a goddess. The head attached to the mop of blonde hair was sent into a ditzy. He was in this state of rethinking literally everything that's eved occured in his life. His emotions were a mix of shock, rage, joy, and so much more— all of them swirling n him and creating a feeling he didn't even know existed. There was no way to even give it proper words. “Hey, Thor.” Rhodney snapped his fingers, eliciting the other to awaken from his daydream. “Oh, yes?”

“So, whatcha gonna do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“[Name] held your hammer. This obviously means something besides the fact that she's boiling with love to spread.” Bucky said. “Isn't there something more to it...?”

“I have to marry her.” Thor said without hesitation. “What?” Everyone in the room perked their heads up. “Asgard must be ruled over with those the hammer deems worthy, and [Name] is without a doubt worthy.” Oh how Steve was happy that he didn't pull the hammer off the table that time when they were all drinking. “Awww, so you finally get a shot to kiss wittle old [Name]y-waymey.” Tony mocked, making fake smooching noises. “He wasn't ever going to make a move on his own, I think it's good that the hammer got involved.” Pietro commented.

“Jeez it's blazing hot out there.” Speak of the devil, there you were, emerging from the outside with sweat running down your body, your clothes almost soaked in the substance. “I could use a drink right about now.” Waltzing your way to the fridge, you bent down and picked out a small glass of water, chugging it down in one gulp and releasing an ‘ahhh’ of satisfaction.

Thor felt something hit his head; A pillow. Glaring at the one who threw it, the god sighed at Clints childish act yet got the message. He inhaled, mustering all the courage he could and walking up to you. “Uhm, lady [Name], I could really-” “Hey Thor. Here's your hammer back.” You turned and greeted, opening his palm to place the hammer in it. “W-wait, you knew this was mines...?” He asked questioningly. “Yup. You always walk around with it after all,” A light laugh emitted as he took the time to process this. “It's pretty light for a hammer that only gods can pick up. Does that make me a goddess?” Everyone overhearing this in the living room snickered. No doubt about it, Thor was going to go crazy.

“Wellll, I guess since it's your hammer, that technically makes me your goddess!”

thor.exe has crashed

[sweetsmellosuccess]

The Sátántangó Experience

How exactly does one prepare to watch a 7.5 hour film? A bit like what you might do in preparation for major surgery: Pack a bag of necessities (in this case, water and protein bars), kiss your loved ones goodbye, and try to make peace with your god. Or, maybe less dramatically, treat it as you would a long train journey, one that takes you through some harrowing terrain on half a rutted track before depositing you to your eventual destination.

Of course, this sort of conception of time is entirely relative: If you have to drive somewhere that takes half an hour, it feels unduly long; but if the trip were normally three hours long, and you somehow found a shortcut that would cut the time down to 30 minutes, you would be flying on dulcet wings for that amount of time, and think you were blessed by angels. In other words, spending an entire standard work day watching one film might seem excessive, but it all has to do with your expectations.

In my case, I was at Philadelphia’s newly renovated Lightbox Theater at the University of the Arts to take in Béla Tarr’s magnum opus Sátántangó, all glorious 450 minutes, in a new 4K restoration (it’s currently playing at select theaters across the country). Armed with my snack survival kit, and safe in the knowledge that we would get intermissions at roughly 2.5 hour intervals, I settled in to watch what has been described as a masterpiece in cinephile circles, and currently resides at number 36 in the most recent Sight & Sound critics’ poll.

Tarr’s beyond-bleak film is broken up into 12 segments, each having to do with a failing farmer’s cooperative in Hungary during the last throes of communism in the late ‘80s. Each section has its own feel and perspective  —  some of them are more lighthearted, others are desolate beyond measure  —  but all expertly shot in low-contrast black and white (by Gábor Medvigy), which renders the people and landscape in various tones of drudgery grey.

It originally opened in America as part of the 1994 New York film festival, at a time when Hungary was undergoing a transformation from Communism to shaky democratic capitalism, so it served as a kind of epigraph to the era, a showcase, as it were, as to the imperfections of a political system built on a promise of human egalitarianism that proved to be depressingly difficult to put into practice.

The landscape makes up a lot of Tarr’s vision, the flat, moody farmland upon which the collective has been toiling, and the unceasing rain and wind that constantly pelts the characters as they venture outside for one business or another. As the film opens, the collective  —  made up of three couples; a curious “doctor” (Peter Berling), who spends his time spying on the others, making copious notes in his stacks of file folders, and daily drinking his considerable body weight in Palinka (Hungarian plum brandy); and the cagey Futaki (Miklos Szekely B.), who has to walk with a cane from an unspecified accident, but seems a bit more shrewd than the others  —  is anxiously awaiting their annual wages, which come all at once and is meant to get divvied up amongst the members equally.

Early on, there are various halfcocked plans from individuals to try and steal the small fortune for themselves, reflected in much idle talk about meeting that evening and decamping for parts unknown, but that ultimately come to nothing. However, when word reaches the group that the mysterious Irimiás (Mihály Vig, also the film’s composer) is, in fact, not dead as they had been told, but alive, and returning to the collective he started, the group dynamic is thrown akimbo, with various members fretting for their future, and, one, the owner of the local bar (Zoltán Kamondi), furious at the thought his business will be taken from him. 

Just why they respond like this remains vague. In ensuing segments, we see Irimiás, along with his associate, Petrina (Dr. Putyi Horvath), navigating through a police interview  —  where the local Captain informs them they will be working for him now in ways unspecified  —  though it appears the collective had very actively planned on not having to include their former leader (and his right-hand man) in their financial arrangements. As for the non-collective characters, including the aforementioned barkeep, and various prostitutes sitting idly around, the collective is virtually their only business, such as it is, so they, too, await this potential flood of cash eagerly.

As the segments begin to collect, they also begin to fold upon themselves: Scenes that we see from one vantage point in an earlier segment are revisited later on, from the perspective of a different character, enabling a thrilling moment of realization that the stream of time we’re following has breaks, jumps, and hiccoughs throughout. Never more poignantly than a moment with a young girl peering into a window of the bar  —  one of the only lit buildings in the otherwise dismally dark countryside  —  watching the adults inside drunkenly dancing and cavorting.

About that girl. Easily the most emotional moment of the film involves her, but not first without the audience paying a heavy price, depending on your empathy for other creatures. Before the film screened, during its introduction, we were made aware that there was a scene of animal cruelty involving a cat somewhere in the proceedings. The sympathetic presenter, himself a cat lover, suggested looking away for parts of that segment, though a friend of mine in attendance who had seen it before assured me looking away wasn’t really an option. Fortunately, he also told me that the cat in question wasn’t actually hurt, and was still alive at the time of a 2012 interview with Tarr.

Needless to say, my worry about this poor cat dominated my experience in the early going: Every time I saw a feline in the background of a scene, I worried that it was coming up, such that it was almost a relief when it finally happened. The situation is this: Estike (Erica Bók), the young daughter of one of the local prostitutes, caught up in her world of half-fantasies after being sent out of their apartment by her working mother, holes up in an attic with a grey tabby. At first, she pets and cuddles him, but eventually, she desires to control him, bend the cat to her will. To the cat’s increasing discomfort and fury, she grabs him by the front paws and rolls around with him, all the while muttering how she alone can determine its fate. Looping up the poor fellow in a net bag and hanging it from a post, she goes downstairs to mix a batch of milk with some rat poison powder and force feeds him until he dies (though in actuality merely tranquilized).

Wandering around the farm that night with the stiffened body of the cat tucked under her arm (a prosthetic, the director assures us), Estike runs into the doctor, shuffling outside to refill his giant jug of brandy, shortly after peering through the window of the bar. Eventually, she lies down amongst the deserted crumble of a bomb-blasted church and takes the poison herself.

As gruesome as the segment becomes, its haunting evocations permeate the rest of the film (though not immediately: in a jarring juxtaposition, the very next segment takes us back to the bar, where everyone is still dancing wildly about to a loopy accordion refrain —  only towards the end of this extended scene do we see the face of the soon-to-be-dead Estike peering inside). Eventually, Irimiás does indeed return, in time to give a moving eulogy for Estike, while at the same time transitioning the group towards his next vision, a new farm some distance away where he assures them they can finally live freely and thrive. All he needs to achieve this goal for them is the money they just received from their previous year’s efforts.

With nowhere else to go, and no other plan on the horizon, the members of the collective dutifully deposit their wages on the table in front of their leader. He sends them out to pack their things so that they may meet with him in a couple of days at the new farm he’s selected.

Gathering their miserable belongings, the group reassemble and trudge down the muddy road on foot, as the rain pelts down on them without ceasing. Distressingly, the members don’t have any proper rain coats  —  in an earlier soliloquy in the bar, Kráner (János Derszi) laments that his leather coat is so old and stiff he has to bend it in order to sit down  —  so they wear their woolen winter coats, which do little to keep them from getting soaked in the heavy fall rains.

As they make their way to this new destination, it’s clear that Irimiás is up to something. Most obviously, he could make off with their wages and move on, but it turns out his scheme is less direct than just taking their hard-earned money for himself.

Towards the second half, Tarr’s penchant for long, elegantly composed shots gives gradually away to more adventurous camerawork, including a single steadicam shot in the woods that’s like something out of a Sam Raimi film. There are extensive elliptical shots with the camera spinning slowly on an axis, this particular effect never more effective than when after the group arrives at their new farm, yet another dilapidated series of box-like concrete buildings. Once they dump their belongings and lie on the floor of the unheated, broken-windowed main house, trying to sleep, our narrator makes one of his occasional VO appearances to describe in intimate detail the dreams each character is having.

It’s a shot that could have served as an excellent final salvo, one would imagine. Indeed, by the last hour of this opus, time and again, Tarr arrives at what might be considered a conclusive moment  —  in this, the confusion is aided by his particular style: It turns out many films end on a superbly composed, static long shot  —  only to keep the narrative flowing, circling back, eventually to the original farm, where the doctor, having just returned from a stint in a hospital, begins to narrate, again, the original opening lines. Such is the perfection in this device (the segment is titled “The Circle Closes”) that once you finally arrive there, it’s clear there could be no other ending that would have sufficed.

When finally the film ended, it was later in the evening. I met up with my compatriots also in attendance, and the three of us ventured back out into the city, heading to a bar where we could nurse a beer and attempt to articulate the tangled mass of feelings and impressions of the previous nine hours. In one of the very few bars in the city that still allows smoking, appropriately enough, we debated about the film in an atmosphere swirling with the poisonous fumes of an earlier era. It seemed hopeless, but still necessary, somehow; like bidding farewell to someone already in a coma.

[rosieengel]

the beauty and the terror

I’ve been contemplating starting a blog for a long time now, but felt paralyzed with terror because I couldn’t find a great opening post topic. This week, the topic found me. I’ve had the draft saved with my finger hovering over the “post now” button for a few days. So, here it goes. 

My first post is about my most recent brush with beauty and terror, best encapsulated, I think, in the mystical words of the poet Ranier Maria Rilke: 

Let everything happen to you Beauty and terror Just keep going No feeling is final

In one of my favorite books of all time, Awareness, Anthony de Mello ponders and unpacks those non-final, fleeting moments in life - he points to the fact that our cells live and die so often that we have to wonder, who am “I” after all? Was I the same person I was in the past? No. Not physically, at least, but isn’t our “consciousness” also comprised of a neural network made up of cells? So we are also not our feelings or our emotions. As a matter of fact, we have to liberate ourselves from our experiences altogether if we are to be fully present in the here and now, or we become hijacked by the filters that create our reality. This becomes even more interesting when we consider how many of our memories may be false or fabricated. How much of my past did I dream? How much did I experience in consciousness? “Don’t carry over experiences from the past... don’t carry over good experiences from the past either. Learn what it means to experience something fully, then drop it and move on to the next moment, uninfluenced by the previous one.... You’d know what eternal life is, because eternal life is now, in the timeless now.” In this book, de Mello suggests, no demands, that the reader, “Wake up”.  Wake up to how we filter reality. Wake up to our excuses. Wake up and be aware. 

I’ve always taken this book very seriously, but it became more important to me when I experienced my first pregnancy loss. The week before Christmas 2017, we experienced major emotional and physical whiplash; we were excited about the possibilities of the new life I was growing. We had told our family and friends, and like a lot of mothers-to-be, I was already dreaming about all of the amazing and absolutely terrifying ways our lives would change. I had spent my 20s and most of my 30s focused on my teaching and playing career, my health, and music. It was time to take care of someone else and I was looking forward to a new chapter (that I thought about my life then in terms of chapters is preposterous and that is worth another blog post). But the Universal Creator had different plans for us, as He typically does. At 12 weeks into my pregnancy and three days before Christmas, I had a miscarriage on the other side of the country and felt a tremendous sense of loss and confusion. In the ER, I could only hold tightly to E’s hand and eeck out, “Our little kumquat...” I was really shocked. I felt as if no one understood - I was grateful for the kindness of everyone around me, but at the same time, I felt as if they were too afraid to give me any comfort or love. Now I know that that is no one else’s responsibility but my own. 

Much to my surprise (and other women who have lost babies or children probably grok this), many ordinary and mundane things in life became very difficult. Particularly because it was Christmas. I found I couldn’t really think about the future at all. Holiday traditions and cheer seemed trite and fabricated. I fought back breakdowns whenever I was around children of any age. Drops would well up in my eyes whenever anyone started talking about their dreams of getting pregnant or starting families. I sat amidst the glee and celebration screaming inside, “HEY!!! CAN’T YOU SEE THAT I’M STILL HERE AND DONT YOU KNOW WHAT IM FEELING!?!??!?!” I would go to the bathroom bleeding, cramping, and sad as I waited for the miscarriage to finish playing out to its gruesome end. I was ashamed to burden others with my uncomfortable tears. I will never forget how I reached into the toilet to touch, pick up, and say goodbye to what I believe was the last of the tissue that remained.

In the days afterward, I came across what would become a well-loved piece by Brian Andreas:

This is how I came to see that first baby - as an angel who was with me so briefly, but made such a terrific impact on my life. An angel, who most certainly prodded me to “wake up” in a de Mello sense. Immediately upon my return home, I said my goodbye to her and started healing (and it’s still happening). I felt an enormous calling to help and to heal others too; in the process of healing with Craniosacral Therapy (CST), I decided to study it myself and enrolled in massage therapy school.  CST helped me to fully experience that pain and grief, down to the mitochondria of my cells, through my fascia, through my very center.  When my inner spirit sensed the healing presence of Erin, my therapist, emotions bubbled up through my solar plexus, through my left hip, my ribs, my sternum. They still do, even today. As an additional part of my healing, I dragged myself to talk therapy for a whole year. My counselor recommended EMDR, using vibration and aural cues because I’m a musician. Through this therapy I finally fully experienced some trauma that I had hidden, buried in my tissues. I came to realize and acknowledge that I had not held proper space for myself and my loss. I had been remiss in thinking that life should go according to my plans, that the world owes me certain things, that I have even a tiny bit of control over my path. The worst is that I held so much shame for all of the things I thought I had failed at in my life. I couldn’t live my pop rocks life because I was looking externally for validation that I was worthy in this world - I was looking everywhere but inside my own spirit. I believe this is what also attracted me to academia, a field where accolades, accomplishments, and the correct lines on your vitae become a measure of your life’s work. That was a tough pill to swallow, but I’ve come to terms with that realization. I’m still healing today in other ways and I probably always will be.

This week, I was gifted a second angel. Even though she is gone now, I will always think of her as Eliza Jane. We conceived her without really intending to around New Years in New Orleans. I love walking down Magazine Street toward the Quarter. When we would walk by the hotel, I would admire its historic, embossed vertical sign. I offhandedly told E that I would love to name a hypothetical daughter Eliza Jane. Two weeks later, I would learn that she was already there.

Early miscarriage is very common. Statistically speaking, 1 in 4 confirmed pregnancies end (that they know of). So - why don’t we talk about it? Why do I feel embarrassed and ashamed that I am part of this statistic? The answer explains why this post stayed in draft form for so long. 

I drove myself to the ER this week, in pain and bleeding. My midwife suggested that I go if I was concerned and if I wanted a quick answer. The answer was not good, but.... I knew the answer already.  I had felt the absence in my body, the little tug at my heart when her life left me. I won’t say that it was easier this time, but I knew what to expect. I knew what the pain would feel like; I would not be taken off-guard by the waves of grief and sadness, the emptiness, and in some ways, the feelings of loneliness and alienation. I was able to hold space for myself this time, to sit in silence, to be in my own home, my own bathroom. I didn’t have to speak to anyone. E was with me and we were together. These two losses have brought us closer together. As I laid in the ultrasound room, unable to see the images that the silent technician kept from my view, I renewed the gratitude in my heart that the Universe brought E and me together.  It may sound like a sappy cliche, but this is the only way I can put my love for him into words right now: the threads of grief in our souls are so "bare” when they are left alone, but when weaved together, make us inseparable and stronger than ever before.

When I got home from the hospital, I planted myself in bed to mentally prepare for the night ahead. Our scrappy, stray cat, Tikky, crawled into bed with me. She rarely does that. As I writhed in bed and moaned in pain, she planted herself next to me. Sprawled out against my belly, she stayed. Although I thrashed about, she remained, wide awake and concerned. Even in that moment, I was so present and grateful for her healing energy. She reminded me that the sick and pained don’t have to crawl into the corner, to lick their wounds alone. The strongest survive with the help and love of others. She sent me light in her own way, without saying anything at all. This is one of the many things I have learned from cats.

I’m sharing this story with the hope that it reaches others who have been through a similar experience. To you - you are not alone. Would this be different if I had a stillborn or if I lost an infant? No. Not according to my belief system. After the worst was over, I woke up before dawn to hear a robin trilling outside my window. In my world, nothing is a coincidence.

If you have not had this experience, open your eyes to those around you who are suffering in silence. Wake up. Just as someone communicates joy and celebration with new life and new possibilities, there is also someone who is crying and mourning the loss of a life. There are also those who did not want to create life and decide to end it (or they don’t). This isn’t just confined to miscarriage - there are people struggling around you. You must assume they are doing their best and it is not their responsibility to make you feel happy with your life.  If you find yourself riled up or offended because of someone else’s struggle, or what you feel to be their failures or incompetencies, just ask yourself - am I taking this personally? I ask myself that question often - that is part of the process of waking up. It’s the process of leading a more compassionate life. Death surrounds us and it is part of a cycle that is repeating. There’s something comforting to me about the cycles of life. My cycle, that of the earth and moon, and the seasons.  Your cells die, they shed, they turn over. It does not happen to us, it is us.

Of course, we should be happy. We should experience bliss and joy and scream it from the mountaintops, all others be damned! But can’t we also show our heartbreak, sadness, grief, and despair? Instead of turning and running from the pain, what if we leaned into the uncomfortable and said something. ANYTHING. Say you’re sorry. Ask if they are okay. Say that you don’t know what to say, but you are here to talk. Be there in silence. Be a shoulder or a hug. Hold space for them in your heart. Reach out. That’s something. Let yourself see the terror and the beauty, because if you don’t, your life will consist only of coincidences and you may miss the angels who are helping you along the way to wake up so that you do not miss your life.

Tikky didn’t leave me to lick my wounds alone. She nestled in and hunkered down right next to the pain. She leaned into it and sat there patiently through my tears and gibberish. Just as I am here to do for you, my friend.

[theclanscript]

heartbeats

⋈ pairing: hyungwon x reader ⋈ word count: 12,031 ⋈ genre: angst/fluff ⋈ notes: happy birthday to our wonderful h.one ♥

The music reverberated from the walls, from the ceiling, from every surface in the spacious nightclub. The heavy bass made the floor shake – and when you stopped moving, it entered your body through the soles of your feet and it felt like it made your muscles vibrate and your heart leap against your rib cage. You worked the bar closest to stage and closest to the gigantic speakers on each of its side. Smaller devices were installed in the corners of the ceiling and at the edges of the stage that ended in a narrow runway down the middle of the dance floor. The DJ booth was elevated and set back a little so that the dancers, presenters, and whoever else found themselves on stage had enough space to entertain the crowd. Colorful lights and blinding spots flickered through the room, darting along the walls and over the heads of people dancing, jumping, and drinking. You tried to keep your eye level below the position of the spotlights as you talked to guests. Too many times had the face of a patron been blurred by stars and dots as your eyes tried to overcome the attack of an aggressive beam after you had allowed them to wander a little too carelessly. You had learned to keep your voice as low as possible to protect your throat, your field of vision as narrow as possible to protect your eyes, and your range of motion as close to the counter as possible so as to avoid the sticky, grabby hands of guests with low inhibitions and high ambitions.

Your shift was both the best and the worst – between midnight and three am, spirits were high and people were as thirsty as they were free-handed with their wallets. But after that, most people either left with their conquests for the night or their friends who had had one or seven drinks too many. By four am, you could start the relatively relaxing process of cleaning up and restocking the bar, and most nights you were out the door by six am. This wasn’t a permanent gig for you, or so you hoped, just some good money on the side while most of your time and energy went toward finishing your degree. In a year or so, this place, the noise, the people would be nothing but a distant memory.

“Vodcrerry.”

You frowned at the girl across the bar who could barely keep herself upright. “What was that?”

“Vo-a-crn-erry,” the girl repeated, evidently thinking she was spelling her order out for you. You contemplated messing with her for a little bit longer, but caved.

“Vodka cranberry?”

“’s whai sssaid,” she slurred and you nodded, grinning to yourself as you filled a glass with not quite as much alcohol as the guidelines specified, but you figured you were doing her a favor by upping the juice ratio. In turn, you took a few bucks off the price and sent her on her way. A glance at your watch told you that it was 4:15 am and as if on cue, you realized that your coworker was tending to the only other person at the bar.

The music was still booming, filling every inch of space with electronic beats and what sounded to you like various alarms. You grabbed a plastic box filled with used glasses and nodded at your coworker. She returned the gesture as a sign that she was going to be okay alone, and you carried the heavy container into the kitchen. There was no way you had enough time to wash glasses by hand on busy weekend nights and since the club had a VIP area that also served food, the owners had had the presence of mind to get the proper machinery and employ two people who were in charge of doing all the dishes that came through the kitchen.

“How’s it looking out there?” a girl around your age asked as she took the glasses from you and placed them in the sink where she would rinse them before the industrial dishwasher would take care of the rest.

“Not too bad,” you replied and grabbed a rack of clean glasses.

“New DJ’s great, right?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged and walked away. You weren’t aware that there was a new DJ in the lineup. Although it wasn’t unusual for the staff to collectively move on to an after party or two after the club had closed, you usually just ventured home by yourself in the twilight of morning, your legs getting heavier with every step closer to your bed. A few times you had joined them for food and after-work drinks and it had been fun, but you really only knew your fellow bar crew members. The DJs, particularly the younger ones, tended to be party animals who loved the adrenaline and the attention, and were at all times surrounded by a cloud of strangers. Not that there was anything wrong with that, it just wasn’t for you.

When you got back to the bar, you set down the rack and looked toward the stage. You could barely make out the figure at the turntables behind all the lights and the fake smoke. He was tall and thin, his head lowered in concentration as his hands flew over the panels and switches and dials, headphones firmly cradling his neck. His hair seemed almost white, although that may have been a trick the lighting was playing on your eyes. You shrugged again and started putting away the glasses.

 “-and that’s how he got arrested for stealing his own car,” you coworker concluded and you laughed out loud at her story. Your arms were crossed in front of you and you were leaning against the back counter of the bar. It was a slow Tuesday night and you had had relatively little to do all night – fortunately, you got paid by the hour.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom, is that okay?” she then asked and you just nodded. It was almost four am and at this rate you’d be able to leave by 5:30, which was perfect for you. You had a long day of lectures behind you, and although you didn’t have to go to class the next day, you were looking at a mountain of homework once you woke up. A yawn formed in your chest and you bent down, pretending to check one of the fridges so you could give in to the urge in peace. When you got up again, you realized someone was standing next to you – someone who was almost a head taller than your coworker and decidedly more masculine.

“Hey!” You looked up his lanky frame and before your brain could register the silvery white hair, you scolded him: “You can’t be back here!”

“No, I can. I’m Hyungwon.”

“And if you were the Queen of England, you still wouldn’t be allowed back here.”

He smirked and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m the new DJ.”

“Oh.” You stared at his outstretched hand for a good five seconds before shaking it. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

“Funny,” you grumbled, realizing he was still holding on to your hand and probably wasn’t going to let go until you told him your name. When you finally did, Hyungwon gave a pleased smile.

“Nice to meet you. Where’s the ginger ale?”

“What do you want?” you asked and quickly pulled your hand from his grip. “I’ll make it for you.”

“Moscow Mule.” Hyungwon took a few steps back and leaned against the same spot you had been in a few moments ago. Instead of lecturing him about the difference between ginger ale and ginger beer in this particular cocktail, you grabbed a glass and the vodka bottle. Then you squeezed the juice from one lime wedge into the glass, threw in the wedge along with it, and added ice cubes. You were very generous with the vodka, filling up the glass almost halfway before putting the bottle back in its place. All the while, you could feel Hyungwon watching you as you mixed his drink with practiced movements.

“Sweet or dry?”

“What?” You clearly had caught him off guard. You turned around and tried to keep a neutral look on your face. Served him right for staring.

“Sweet ginger ale or dry?”

“Dry,” he mumbled and you raised an eyebrow at him. Then you reached into the fridge at your feet to get the soda. You filled up the glass, stirred its contents, and handed it to him before crossing your arms again.

“There you go.”

“Thank you.” He took a big sip and although the vodka must have given the drink quite the sting, his expression remained normal. Now it was your turn to stare, but Hyungwon seemed completely unbothered by your attention. He met your gaze and put down the glass next to him. “So,” he said casually, “you like EDM?”

“Nope.”

His eyebrows rose at the unexpected answer and one corner of his mouth looped up into a half-smile.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Paying the bills.”

“Fair enough.” He took another sip as you started wiping down the bar and the area around the sink. “Can I help you with anything?”

You halted and looked at him. “Aren’t you off the clock?”

“Yeah, but I figure it’s better than just standing here looking for excuses to keep talking to you.” He gave you a sheepish smile and for the first time you really stopped to look at him.

He was at least six feet tall but his full cheeks and the round tip of his nose gave his features a soft and boyish look. He had plump lips and big, dark eyes that met yours with stoic calm. His white hair fell past his eyebrows in silky strands and he had large hands, long fingers curling around the glass as he took another sip from his drink. The high-end brand T-shirt exposed tan and toned arms and his blue jeans sat low on his hips without taking away from the incredible length of his legs. He was nothing short of beautiful and you would have loved to just give into his flattery and keep him around for a while, maybe for a few more hours, maybe for the night.

But you didn’t.

“Thanks, I’m okay,” you said curtly and returned to your work. Before he could say anything, your coworker appeared on the other side of the counter. She offered him a smile.

“Wow, DJ H.ONE, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I was just asking if you guys needed a hand.”

You almost rolled your eyes – both at his inability to take a hint, and at the hopeful warmth spreading in your chest. You had no reason to dislike him or push him away, other than his obvious flirtatiousness and the reputation that preceded his kind. So far, he was merely a cute boy striking up a conversation with you at your shared workplace, and yet you tried to convince yourself as hard as you could that it was common sense to stay far, far away from him.

Unfortunately, your heart did not seem to agree.

“Sure!” Your coworker pushed a piece of paper across the bar. “This is a list of things we need from the storage in the back. You can show him the way, right?”

The last question was clearly directed at you. You suppressed a sigh and dropped the towel you had been using.

“Yeah.”

Without waiting another moment, you stomped off towards the back of the building, the paper crumbled up in your fist. You felt silly and knew you were overreacting, but sometimes that was part of self-preservation.

Hyungwon caught up with you as you turned into the hallway where the bathrooms were.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” His tone of voice suggested that he was being earnest – and slightly confused.

“No.” You stopped and pivoted on the spot to look at him. “No, you’re alright. I’m just tired. Come on. This way.”

Hyungwon followed you as you started walking again. A heavy, locked door was at the end of the hallway, and it took you a moment to fish the set of keys out of your pocket. You turned the corresponding key in the lock, pushed open the door, and turned on the lights. The big room with its bare walls reminded you more of a warehouse than a modest nightclub storage. It was equipped with three gigantic refrigerators and one equally large freezer on one side. The rest was used to hold random furniture, decoration for various events, and, of course, drinks. You stepped into the room and unfolded the list your coworker had given you.

“That’s not too bad,” you mumbled to yourself.

“What?”

You flinched when Hyungwon’s face popped up next to yours. He was standing behind you, easily looking over your shoulder to study the paper.

“There’s not too much we have to restock,” you replied and hurried toward a mountain of racks stacked up on the wall to your right.

You only needed a few bottles of each of the items, so you found an empty rack and started collecting. Hyungwon watched you silently and you were thankful for that. His uninhibited gaze still made you nervous, but at least you weren’t running the risk of exposing that to him by having to form coherent sentences with your mouth which right now felt about as dry as his stupid ginger ale. By the time you had gotten to the last entry on the list – Bacardi rum – you had calmed down and were humming to yourself as you looked for the right carton. You frowned. Someone had placed it on top of a tower of coca cola racks. Tentatively, you got on your tiptoes and raised your arms, barely reaching the cardboard box. You tried to stretch your entire body more which led to you gaining a dangerous forward momentum. Suddenly, the coca cola logo started coming closer and closer to your face, but then you felt an arm around your waist pulling you back abruptly. Your back hit Hyungwon’s chest and he used his other hand to steady you by the shoulder. Once you had regained your balance, he let go of you and easily grabbed the box from the top of the tower, like picking an apple from a tree.

“You could have asked for help,” he commented and shoved the open carton in your face. You took out three bottles and watched him put it back in its place. To buy more time, you crammed the rum into the rack you had been collecting bottles in and lifted it with both hands, effectively creating a barrier between yourself and him.

“I’m usually alone in here.”

“What if you get hurt?” he asked, his dark eyes looking down at you as he ran a hand through his hair. You cleared your throat.

“I- I don’t know,” you admitted. You had never thought about the possibility. Hyungwon’s eyebrows knitted together and he took two steps toward you. He was close now, too close, and you had to tilt your head back even further to hold his gaze. His lips turned into two thin lines as he pressed them together pensively. You swallowed. He smelled really nice. And he was even more beautiful from this up close. You almost gasped with relief when he opened his mouth to speak.

“Next time,” he said calmly and took the rack from you. “Just ask me for help.”

You didn’t bother changing out of your work shirt when your shift was done. You simply ripped your bag, boots, and coat from your locker, switched your sneakers for their warmer cousins, slipped on the thick jacket, and tied a long, chunky scarf around your neck. It was already March, but winter refused to bow out, still sending the occasional ice and snow to throw the city into a frenzy. You put on the backpack and waved goodbye to the other girls changing before leaving. A set of stairs led from the basement to the backdoor that served as the staff exit. You heaved your tired body up step by step and sighed with relief when you pushed open the heavy metal door, cold wind slapping you in the face as soon as you set foot outside. Instinctively, your pulled up your shoulders to shorten your neck and hide half of your face within the warm fabric of your scarf. You realized you must have looked like a turtle, but you did not care. It felt like frostbite was already forming on your nose and you weren’t about to risk any other body parts for the sake of vanity.

As you stepped into the street behind the club, a shadow in your peripheral vision caught your eye and your first reflex was to look. Your next was to ignore Hyungwon standing next to the entrance, leaning against the wall, more down coat than human. His nose and cheeks were red, and like you, he had to pull the lower half of his face from behind the collar of his jacket to grin at you. He had left work about half an hour ago and you had no idea what had delayed his departure, but since you had made eye contact with him, you didn’t find the rudeness in you to just ignore him. You offered a courtesy nod as you walked past him.

“Bye, Hyungwon,” you said, your voice muffled by the scarf and nervousness.

“Hey, wait!” His hand darted out of his sleeve and wrapped around your wrist, not tightly, almost delicately, just enough to tuck you into his direction. You weren’t sure if it was his words or the touch of his hand on your skin that made you stop, but you did. Encouraged, Hyungwon pulled on your arm again until you were facing him. Even though his legs were angled a little, sticking away from the wall, he was still taller than you. You looked up at him, almost too distracted by his winter-kissed face to notice him reaching out with his other arm as well to hold both of your hands in his.

Almost.

Surprisingly, his hands were warm, and even if you could have brought yourself to want to pull away from him, the body heat spreading from him onto your skin was a solid argument for just staying still and enjoying the feeling of his warmth. You were still looking up at him, one of his legs on either side of you. His breath fogged up the air between you when he spoke.

“I was waiting for you.”

“Why?” was the first thing that came to mind. It seemed like Hyungwon blushed, but you couldn’t be sure. He combed through his hair with nervous fingers. You were pretty sure you had discovered a habit.

“I- I just. Wanted to talk. Some more.”

You eyed him suspiciously. You weren’t exactly unpopular with men but you had never pegged yourself for the type that they would wait outside in the cold for, and you had a very hard time fighting off all the worst-case scenarios that your brain conjured up as Hyungwon waited for you to respond. When you didn’t say anything for a good ten seconds, he pulled you a little bit closer and leaned down with a tentative smile.

“I know you were trying to get rid of me earlier and I’m sorry I tricked my way into sticking around. I just don’t understand why. You’re cute, you’re nice and fun, I want to get to know you. Is that so bad?”

Your brows furrowed. “Why would you think I’m nice and fun, we just met today.”

Hyungwon’s smile widened. “I talk to people. Everyone here really likes you.”

Your mouth opened and then closed again. That was news to you. You stared at Hyungwon, searching his eyes for the lies you were sure were hidden there somewhere. But you couldn’t find anything.

“Come on.” He lightly tugged on your hands, his smile telling you that he already knew he had won. “Just one drink.”

It was the smell you noticed first. It wasn’t unpleasant, just a little muskier than what you were used to, mixed with a detergent you couldn’t place. It wasn’t your detergent. It wasn’t your sheets. It wasn’t your bed.

You weren’t at home.

You squeezed your eyes shut in lieu of letting a curse escape your lips. Images started to flash before your inner eye, images of skin on skin, lips on lips, smiles, giggles, and soft touches. The memories stirred something in your stomach and made your heart race. The last thing you remembered was falling asleep exactly where you still were right now.

In Hyungwon’s arms.

You kept your eyes closed and your breathing even. You could feel the cotton of his shirt on your cheek, his chest rising and sinking, his hand holding on to your arm that was sprawled across his stomach. He stirred and groaned quietly, probably taking in the situation himself as he slowly drifted back into reality. Then the arm that was lodged under your neck bent, his hand landing on your upper arm, and pulled you closer to him. You lay there motionlessly for a few minutes as his fingers lazily stroked the naked skin of your forearm on his abdomen, sending prayers to all the deities that he couldn’t feel your heart pounding in your chest. After a while, you felt his lips brush against the top of your head and then he carefully pulled his arm out from under you to get up, making sure that you were sufficiently covered by the warm duvet before leaving the room. Your eyes shot open the second you heard the door click shut.

Fuck.

That had not gone as planned at all. One drink had turned into a late – or very early – dinner in some hole in the wall with way too much soju and way too little space between you. You had talked. You had laughed. You had flirted.

You had liked him.  

You blamed it on the booze. His smile. His gentle brown eyes hanging on your every word. You almost wished you had drunk enough to forget the details of the previous night, because the more you remembered, the less reason you had to regret it.

This was not good. This was not good at all. You would even go so far as to say that this was bad. Why on earth would you hook up with a coworker? Now you would have to go back to work on Friday and face the reality of it all, not knowing how to act around him, not knowing what to do about this, not knowing who knew. Not that you would tell anyone – but who could tell how Hyungwon viewed this whole thing. To him, it may just have been another conquest, a small anecdote to tell and laugh about. Something to move on from the moment you walked out of the door.

With a groan, you slapped your hands against your face and wished you could just disappear. Close your eyes and wake up in your own bed with none of this having happened. Unfortunately, that was not an option, so you figured the next best thing you could do was get out of his apartment as quickly as possible. Slowly, you sat up. The room was small but cozy, the bed taking up most of the space. There were nightstands on either side of it. A double door presumably led to a walk-in closet and a desk with a computer on top of it stood in a corner near the only window. The room was neat, save for the clothes strewn across the floor – some of the items, as you noticed, belonging to you. You looked down at yourself. You were wearing a gray men’s T-shirt and black sweatpants. The memory of Hyungwon handing you the clothes with the comment that it might get cold at night fluttered across your mind and suddenly your throat felt very dry again. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and spotted an unopened bottle of water on the nightstand on your side of the bed.

That considerate bastard.

With unreasonable irritation, you reached for the bottle, screwed it open, and took a handful of greedy sips. Then you planted your feet on the ground, put the bottle back, and walked out of the bedroom. You found yourself in a narrow hallway. On one end was the apartment door, the other opened into a room that functioned as the kitchen and the living space, separated only by a counter reaching about halfway into the room. There was a shoe closet and a closed door on the side across from the bedroom that probably led to the bathroom. Suddenly feeling the urge, you darted into said bathroom and locked up behind you.

First things first.

You washed your hands and took a look at yourself in the mirror over the sink. You splashed some cold water into your face, hoping that it would at least make you feel better about your appearance. A folded towel lay on the hamper next to the sink and you used it to dry your hands and face. It was as if Hyungwon had left a trail of attentiveness for you to follow. He clearly knew how to take care of girls in his place.

When you finally entered the biggest room of the apartment, you found him working a French press, two empty mugs standing next to it in anticipation. He looked up briefly when you walked in before stopping self-consciously a few feet away from him.

“Coffee or tea?”

“Tea,” you mumbled and leaned against the fridge.

“You don’t like coffee?” he asked and sounded as casual as he had the day before at the club before everything had changed. Or maybe this had been his plan all along.

“Not really,” you replied and he smirked to himself.

“Interesting.”

“Hm.” You looked around. A row of windows and glass doors at the end of the long room let in the bright daylight and was only blocked by the kitchen counter extending from the wall. An L-shaped sofa stood on the right wall and a TV set on the left, with a small coffee table filling the space in between. There seemed to be a sliding door leading into another room behind the sofa, but it was firmly closed. You let your eyes wander back to Hyungwon who was now pouring fresh coffee in one cup, and hot water into the other. He opened a cabinet above him and beckoned for you to come closer.

“Which one?” he asked and gestured toward the four or five variations of tea the door had revealed. You picked a green tea and watched him spoon a few dried leaves into the hot water. His hands worked calmly, his whole attention focused on the task at hand. He stirred your tea diligently before sliding the mug closer to you.

“Do you do this for all your one-night stands?” you asked, attempting a joke. Hyungwon gave a dry laugh at the clichéd and unnecessary question, and you doubted that he had found it very funny.

“No, usually I just chuck them down the garbage chute while they’re still asleep.” He glanced at you humorlessly. “But we work together, so I figured this would be a better approach.”

You felt silly. If you hadn’t known better, you would have thought that your comment had hurt his feelings. His expression seemed tense and his lips once again turned into thin, disapproving lines. You reached for the cup next to you but hesitated.

“Hyungwon?” you asked, your voice low. “How did this happen?”

Hyungwon’s face softened as he looked at you. He studied your nervous stance and the pensive, slightly distant look in your eyes before taking one step toward you.

“A little like this,” he said, his long fingers pulling you closer by the waist, one hand sliding onto the small of your back to press you against his body. Slowly, he leaned down, looking straight into your eyes until his lips met yours. Almost automatically, your arms looped around his neck and he used this as an opportunity to pull you even closer as the kiss deepened and your hands started wandering until they settled on combing idly through his hair. Hyungwon’s arms were wrapped around your back, holding you tightly, holding on for dear life. You didn’t know how long you had just been standing there in his kitchen, engrossed in the tentative, almost delicate yet intense kiss, enjoying the feeling of each other, of getting to know each other’s touch anew, when he finally pulled back and smiled at you sweetly.

“Your tea is getting cold,” he whispered, his breath lightly fanning your face.

“So is your coffee,” you grinned and he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose before releasing you. Reluctantly, you untangled your hand from his hair and reached for your mug. You followed him to the sofa and plopped down next to him. Hyungwon worked the TV remote with one hand and wrapped the other arm around your shoulders, inviting you to snuggle into his side. You didn’t care what was on TV and only hummed or laughed whenever Hyungwon commented on the images on the screen. Maybe the situation wasn’t ideal. Maybe you would face problems down the road. Maybe all of this would go up in flames.

But right now, all you cared about was that Hyungwon smelled like coffee and comfort, and that his heart was beating just as fast as yours.

“You really don’t have to do this.” You were putting on your shoes in the small entrance of the apartment, searching the floor with your eyes for your backpack. As if he had read your mind, Hyungwon grabbed it from where it was lying and handed it to you.

“It’s no problem,” he replied and reached for his coat. You had spent half the day on the couch in a haze of kisses, cuddles, and naps with the flickering images on the TV the only indication that time was passing by at all. Now it was a little too late in the afternoon and you had started to get antsy about your workload at home, so Hyungwon had offered to walk you to the station.

“But it’s cold outside and not that far,” you insisted, your politeness fighting a raging battle with the part of you that wanted to be with him, if only that little bit longer.

“But,” he countered and gave you a quick peck on the lips. “I want to.”

“I guess your argument beats mine,” you grinned and watched as Hyungwon zipped up his coat, slipped on his boots, and ran a hand through his hair. You smiled at the gesture, feeling like you had learned a secret about him he wasn’t aware you knew. He reached past you to unlock the door and you left the apartment. You were both quiet during the walk to the elevator and the ride down, but you didn’t mind. He held open the front door for you and you walked out into the icy cold, immediately shoving your hands into your coat pockets. Hyungwon followed your example.

“Jesus,” he hissed, his long legs automatically picking up speed to warm up his body. You almost had to jog to keep up with him.

“Told you,” you teased, earning yourself a playfully dismissive look. “Regretting your decision already?”

Hyungwon glanced at you again and pulled up his shoulders. “Nope.”

“Thank you for walking me.” You smiled at him as well as you could with your slowly freezing features. “And for everything else.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I was the one who got you drunk, after all.”

“I guess.” You weren’t sure what he had meant by that, if anything at all. But you were still feeling optimistic, still feeling like maybe you were right to give him a chance, so you tried to let it go. Unfortunately, it took some convincing yourself to get to that point and Hyungwon picked up on the ensuing silence pretty quickly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said hastily. “Just cold.”

“It’s miserable.” Hyungwon stopped at a red light and you stood next to him. “Here, take this. I only have one, though. Sorry.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket and handed you a small hand warmer. “You have to knead it for a bit,” he explained and held the item in his palm for you to take. When you reached for it and your fingers touched his skin he shuddered. “How are your hands so cold when they were in your pockets all this time?”

“I don’t know,” you whined with an underlying laugh and watched as Hyungwon shoved the hand warmer into your now empty pocket and then took your outstretched hand between his. You laughed even harder when he started rubbing your fingers to warm them up.

“We never should have left my place,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“Unfortunately, real life demanded me back,” you joked and Hyungwon smirked at you.

“Am I not real?”

You looked up at him, tempted to reply with another sarcastic comment. Instead, you tilted your head and pursed your lips.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “You tell me.”

Hyungwon opened his mouth to reply but froze suddenly. He let go of your hand so quickly, you were confused to find it seemingly suspended in mid-air, grasping at nothing. When you had returned it to your pocket, Hyungwon was standing a few more feet away from you, anxiously looking over your head. You frowned and turned around only to find yourself facing a tall man, probably a few years older than Hyungwon. He sported a friendly smile as his arm extended past you.

“Hyungwon!” he exclaimed and shook Hyungwon’s hand, obviously happy to see him. “It’s been forever. How have you been?”

“Good,” Hyungwon replied solemnly. “Better. Thank you.”

The stranger’s eyes landed on you and you attempted to match his smile, but confusion made it difficult. When Hyungwon had let go of your hand it was as if all the intimacy, all the magic between you had dissipated into the frigid winter air. You shivered because you felt colder than before and if anyone had asked, you would have insisted that it was the icy breeze that made your eyes tear up.

“And who’s this?” He offered you his hand as well and you shook it weakly. “Your girlfriend?”

“No!” The word tumbled from Hyungwon’s mouth before the man had even finished talking. “She’s my coworker.”

You turned your head to look at Hyungwon. You felt dizzy, embarrassed, exposed. You barely registered Hyungwon introducing you to his friend and the man replying with his own name. Somehow you managed to produce a hollow nice to meet you, too in response. But you had already forgotten the name. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you stood between them, your face burning with anger, your eyes with tears. You should have known better but you had been fooled by the moment – the alcohol, the pretty face, the sweet words. Nothing had changed. Coworker. Not friend. No shy smile. No hesitation. Coworker.

You were nothing to him.

“I should go.” You were surprised at the firmness of your own voice. “I have to get home.”

“Oh.” Hyungwon’s eyes darted back and forth between you and his friend, he was scrambling for words. “I’ll walk with you.”

“No, it’s okay.” You gave a fake smile. “It’s right across the street, I’ll be fine. See you at work.”

Fortunately, the light had just changed to green and you waved at both of them briefly before hurrying onto the crosswalk. However, you were still within earshot when the stranger started talking again, his voice being carried to you across the beeping of the traffic light and idling cars.

“Hyungwon, you need to stop this.”

“I know,” Hyungwon said, but you didn’t hear the rest of what he had to say. You had started running to get away, away from the conversation and from him, and you didn’t stop until you found yourself on the train platform and you had nowhere left to run.

The music was booming but you barely heard it today. You were on edge, nervous, all your senses focused on scanning your surroundings and being alert to make sure that you would not get close to Hyungwon.

And that he couldn’t get close to you.

For a little while you had held on to hope despite yourself. You had half expected that Hyungwon would call you, maybe after you got home that day, maybe the next, to tell you who that man was and why he had reacted the way he had. To say he was sorry. To say he had had a good time, too, and would like to do it again sometime. Maybe have dinner – at 6pm, not 6am.

But he never did.

You knew he was at the club today. After all, is was Friday and from the work gossip you had gathered that he was their new shining star. A couple of years ago, he had quit school to devote all his time to DJ-ing and he had been rising through the ranks of Seoul’s nightclub scene ever since. He had a certain style, they said, an edge that separated him from most of the party DJs. He brought an energy to the stage that came naturally, he didn’t need a mic or hosts or dancers to fire up a crowd. All he needed was a set of turntables and music at the tips of his fingers. Of course it didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous, some of your male coworkers had remarked with only the slightest hint of bitterness. But everyone agreed that what had brought him here were talent and passion.

“He’s almost too good to be real,” some girl had said offhandedly.

You had scoffed and announced that you were going to go set up the bar.

Hyungwon’s set began at two am and the club was still bursting with people, dancing, jumping, and yelling whenever prompted. You were still a little anxious, but at least now you knew that he was safely tucked away behind his booth for at least an hour. About half an hour in, the bar experienced another surge of thirsty guests who had danced themselves dry. The bar was manned by four people today and routine teamwork and a little help from two of the bouncers saw you through the sudden onslaught of orders. Sweat had formed on your forehead and you poured yourself a glass of water when the rush had died down enough for you and your coworkers to breathe. However, all of you tensed up again when one of the managers approached the bar. His finger was pointing in your direction as he leaned over the counter to make it easier for you to hear.

“Can you get H.ONE some of that?” he yelled and you blinked, confused, before realizing he had been pointing at the bottle of water next to you.

“Sure,” you replied without thinking. You quickly looked around to see if you could pass the task on to somebody else, but before you could even ask, two announced that they would go on break while it was quiet, and the third one was already taking orders from a group of guys again. Having been left with very little choice aside from risking the wrath of your employer, you got a small bottle of water from the fridge, grabbed a glass from the shelf, and left the bar area before you could get roped back into work by other waiting patrons.

Slowly and with much effort you made your way to the stage. You had to push yourself past swaying bodies and stoic onlookers, the space between them getting smaller and smaller the closer you got to the front. About ten feet from the stage you lifted your hand that was holding the bottle and that conveniently also displayed your employee wristband. A bouncer spotted you from his post and helped you make it the rest of the way, safely leading you to the stairs a little to the side of the stage. You took a deep breath. One of the gigantic speakers was mere inches away from you. It was facing the other way but you could still feel the bass, every single beat vibrating through your body like an artificial heartbeat. It was too fast, too hard, almost painful, and you had to pause again once you stepped on the stage. Hyungwon was focused on the controller, his hands playing with panels and knobs you didn’t understand, but to him it seemed like second nature. There was a change in song; a new melody accompanied the beat that grew louder and faster, amping up the crowd. He took off the headphones and finally looked up, looked at his audience, and smiled. Then he started jumping until the cadence of the song hit its climax, sending the people into a frenzy. Hyungwon waved his arm in the air while still controlling the music with the other and it seemed like the entire room was dancing to his beat. They were following along to his flow, surrendering to his sound. DJ H.ONE was the source of energy and the center of the attention as the club lay at his feet.

But all you could see was Hyungwon.

His dark eyes were shining, his smile was brighter than you had ever seen, his body was feeling the music. He was in his element. He was in control. He was like a completely different person. You were bewildered by this change in demeanor. His manner of speaking was usually calm, almost lazy, and his movements slow and deliberate. This man before your eyes was bursting with energy as if he was in a completely different world and had left those parts of himself behind in the old one.

But then he ran a hand through his hair and you felt oddly at ease.

Suddenly, his head spun around and your eyes met his. His smile grew impossibly wider before a spark of memory flashed across his face and it faltered. Nevertheless, he waved you over to signal you it was okay to come closer. Once again, you inhaled deeply and closed your eyes for a moment, but the violent beating would not stop.

You couldn’t tell if it was the bass or your heart.

Quickly, you shuffled over to him and held up the water and the glass. He pointed at a small table behind him and you set them down. Hyungwon turned around and leaned in to get closer to you.

“Thank you,” he yelled, his breath brushing against your ear, and it made your skin tingle.

“You’re welcome.” You gave a crooked grin and an almost comical two thumbs up. Hyungwon chuckled and leaned in again.

“Okay?”

You looked at him quizzically. The music had drowned out the first part of his question, so all you could do was guess.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you replied. Hyungwon ran a hand through his hair again and you almost smiled at the familiar gesture. But then he came close to your ear again, placing the same hand heavy on your shoulder.

“No,” he said. “Are we okay?”

Your entire body tensed up and you took one step away from him. You could feel your eyes starting to burn again as the anger expanded in your stomach like a storm cloud, sending lightning bolts of fury through your veins. So this was how he intended to conclude his little adventure. With three simple words he expected things to go back to normal, to go back to being coworkers, to go back to being practically strangers. You stared at him as the tears started to well up but you made no attempt to hide them. If this was how he chose to treat you, you figured it was only right to show him the damage he was doing. Hyungwon’s eyes widened when a rogue light beam illuminated your face for a split second. You could tell that he was trying to say something else but you simply shook your head softly and walked away. You knew he wouldn’t follow you. After all, he was still in the middle of the set and was safely tucked away behind his booth which made sure that he was tied to his spot in the spotlight.

And that he couldn’t get close to you.

It was already after five am when the club finally cleared out and you were free to restock and clean the bar without having to be considerate of drunk or asleep patrons. With four people, the work went smoothly and swiftly, you distributed the tasks and quietly went about your business. You could hear some members of the entertainment crew still laughing and drinking with their special guests in the VIP area, but you didn’t pay any mind to them. You weren’t obligated to serve them and anything they left behind would be taken care of by the cleaning crew that came at seven am.

You hadn’t seen Hyungwon since the incident in the DJ booth. As usual, he had disappeared after his set, probably to change and drink with his crew, or to humor some of the VIP clubgoers over champagne and sweet cocktails. You really weren’t in the mood to see him either. You were angrily stacking empty racks in the storage room and with every thought of him, your movements became more aggressive. How dare he just drop you like that – on stage. It wasn’t like you had heard wedding bells in the distance, but you had thought that you had gotten along well and could at least continue on friendly terms. But then he had not only acted like touching you would give him the plague just because someone he knew had shown up, he had had the audacity to nonchalantly ask you if everything was cool between you two over the sound of more than 110 decibel of electronic music as if to put a stamp on it and close the file.

“Fuck,” you cursed loudly when one of the towers came tumbling down and a plastic rack hit you in the shoulder. You kicked the offender and watched it slither across the concrete floor, only to stop at two feet standing near the door.

“I told you to ask me for help.” Hyungwon picked up the rack and walked over to you. You almost expected him to wear a sheepish smile or a cautious smirk, but his expression was sullen.

“Go back to your party, I’m fine,” you spat and started putting the scattered cases back on top of each other.

“Can I at least ask what I did wrong?”

“Nothing.” You dropped what you were holding and stood up straight to stare at him. “It was my fault.”

“What are you talking about?” Hyungwon asked and walked over to you, his steps even like the beat of a slow song. He stacked the rack on top of one of the towers you had created and you were unreasonably annoyed at the fact that he was able to put it higher than you ever could. “What was your fault?”

“Everything.” You raised your arms to about shoulder height before dropping them again with a defeated sigh. “I shouldn’t have agreed to have a drink with you. I shouldn’t have gone home with you. I should have just listened to my instincts and stayed away from you.”

Hyungwon pressed his lips into two thin lines as he waited for you to elaborate. When you didn’t, he crossed his arms in front of his body and looked down at you with cold eyes.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“I’m sorry I got my hopes up,” you shot back before being able to stop yourself. Hyungwon frowned.

“What?”

“I’m sorry my presence embarrassed you in public. I’m sorry I thought I might like you. I’m sorry I believed even for a second that it could be more than a hook-up for you.” You sneered. “I guess that’s what you get for fucking a stranger.”

Hyungwon now looked almost shocked. His mouth stood open slightly and his eyes were flickering trying to get you to meet his gaze. But you just turned around and finished your little building project, letting him stew in his own juice until he finally found his tongue.

“I-I-“ he muttered. “That’s not-“

“Hyungwon!” The storage door flew open and one of the managers barged in, his high and drunken spirits completely unaware of the atmosphere in the room. “Hyungwon, the ladies are missing you!”

“I’m sure they are,” you mumbled, your eyes piercing a hole into Hyungwon as you walked past him. A few feet away from him you stopped and turned around one last time.

“Don’t worry, Hyungwon,” you said, making sure the manager couldn’t hear you. “We’re okay.”

You recognized him immediately. He was tall, almost as tall as Hyungwon, and the smile on his face was ever so friendly and non-committal. The longer you looked at it, the more it seemed practiced, rehearsed, disposable. He was making his way through the crowd, leaving the stage behind and walking straight toward you. Nervously, you looked around for something to do, an excuse to leave or at least duck. But it was too early to start restocking and there weren’t enough guests to keep you occupied for more than a couple of minutes. And if he wanted something from you, he would probably wait.

You still took some orders in an attempt to calm yourself down and to have an excuse for not acknowledging him in case he was just walking by. But when you were done passing out all the drinks and cashing up, he was standing at the corner of the bar, leaning on his elbows, eyes tracing your every move. You closed the register and turned to look at him. You raked your brain for his name but it was still lost inside the foggy haze that had clouded your mind when you had met. Somehow you had forced a smile onto your face by the time you got to him.

“Hi,” you greeted and looked at him expectantly. “What’s up?”

“Hyunwoo,” he yelled over the music and you couldn’t help looking a little embarrassed. “We met the other day. I’m Hyungwon’s-“

“Oh, I know, I remember, I remember,” you interrupted him, eager to gloss over the awkward situation. “What are you doing here?”

“Just came to see Hyungwon. He’s gotten really good.”

“So you’ve known him for a while, then?” you asked and almost rolled your eyes at yourself. Why were you trying to engage him in a conversation?

“I’ve known him forever,” he replied, the smile unwavering. “He’s family.”

“Oh, you’re his brother?” you said bluntly. Hyunwoo shook his head.

“No, I’m not.”

You nodded as if you understood. You weren’t going to guess your way through Hyungwon’s entire family tree just to find out who this man was. It wasn’t any of your business, anyway. You were done with Hyungwon. You had left work as quickly as you could the night before and were relieved when he hadn’t been waiting outside like three days prior. It was hard to believe only a few days had passed since you had almost fallen for him. It seemed so much longer now, even looking at Hyunwoo stirred up an odd feeling of nostalgia that you couldn’t explain.

“Are you leaving already?” You were trying to fill the silence and Hyunwoo seemed grateful that the conversation had picked up again.

“Yes, unfortunately I have an early morning. I wish I could wait for Hyungwon to finish, but I really need to get some sleep. Could you give him something from me?”

You looked at him, startled. “I- I don’t know if I’ll see him later.”

“You get off work at the same time, right?” Hyunwoo asked and was already sliding an envelope over the stained and sticky counter. You quickly grabbed it, if only to save it from terminal grossness.

“No, he’ll actually leave before me,” you explained and Hyunwoo replied with an ominous smile.

“I doubt that.” He pushed himself off the bar and gently touched your arm. “Thanks, I owe you. I’ll see you around.”

You were too dumbfounded to respond. Hyunwoo slipped away through the crowd and when he was out of sight, you shifted your attention to the envelope. It wasn’t sealed. You looked up again to make sure Hyunwoo was really gone, then you used your thumb and forefinger to carefully pull on the contents of the envelope. They were photos, only a handful, but every single one of them showing the same two people: Hyungwon and a girl, smiling as if they were ready to take on the world, arm in arm, hand in hand. A sour taste crept up your esophagus and into the back of your mouth. What the hell was this about? Why had Hyunwoo given you the envelope? He must have known you would see the photos, one way or another. Had he tried to send you a signal? Give you a warning?

Back off.

He has a girlfriend.

Your brain felt like it was boiling in your head, your cheeks tinted a telling scarlet. You shoved the envelope into the back pocket of your jeans where it proceeded to burn a hole into you with its untold secrets and shameful truths. You had asked Hyungwon – he had asked first, actually, if you had a boyfriend. Both of your answers had been the same. You had told the truth.

Hyungwon had lied.

When your shift ended, you rushed to get changed and ran up the stairs to the exit. You had to get out, had to get home. You wanted to get rid of the envelope. Maybe you’d throw it into Hyungwon’s mailbox and pretend you didn’t know anything. You didn’t want anything to do with this, didn’t want anything to do with him.

You pushed open the heavy door and welcomed the icy air in your face. You closed your eyes and stopped. Took a deep breath. Counted to five. Opened your eyes.

Hyungwon.

“I think we should talk,” he said, standing in front of you with his hands in his pockets and his winter-kissed face that seemed paler than the last time you had stood here like this.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Hyungwon,” you replied, surprising yourself with the steadiness of your voice. “I get it now.”

“You do?” he asked suspiciously. You nodded, pulled the envelope out of your jeans, and slapped it against his chest.

“Yes. I didn’t realize there was a bigger picture.”

You walked off, leaving Hyungwon fumbling to catch the envelope and examining its contents. He yelled after you, yelled your name, but you didn’t stop. Finally, the tears had come.

And your heart was beating in tune to your footsteps on the asphalt.

The knocking was harsh, relentless. It took you a while to open your eyes and realize that it was not part of a dream you couldn’t remember. Someone was knocking on your apartment door and had been for a while. A thousand scenarios of emergencies, death, and disaster spun around in your head as you scrambled to your feet. A glance at your cell phone told you that it was only ten am. You hadn’t even slept two hours and your body was sluggish with exhaustion and the sudden shock of having been torn from sleep. Without thinking to check the peephole, you unlocked your door, hanging onto it heavily as it swung inward. Hyungwon was leaning in the doorway, his eyes hooded, his mouth slightly parted. You had seen his face like this before.

He was drunk.

“Good lord,” you breathed and reached out to help him stand up, but Hyungwon took a step back and suddenly looked a lot soberer when he realized that you were finally standing in front of him. “How do you know where I live?”

“Personnel files,” he slurred almost making you laugh.

“That is super illegal, Hyungwon.”

He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” he said quietly, as if he had instantaneously become aware of the noise he was making.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” you replied but Hyungwon just grimaced and waved a hand in front of your face.

“Will you shut up for a second.” He looked at you directly for the first time since you had opened the door. “I’m not cheating. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

You opened your mouth to say something but thought better of it. Instead, you let out a shaky sigh as Hyungwon figured out how to continue.

“She passed away. Three years ago.”

Your eyes widened in shock and Hyungwon chuckled, seeming almost pleased at the reaction.

“Hyunwoo is her older brother. We all grew up together. He gave you those damn photos so I would have to tell you about her. But that doesn’t matter. I’m here to tell you something else.”

“Okay?” you said cautiously. Hyungwon somehow managed to stumble over his own feet despite barely moving from his position. Your hands shot out again to steady him, but he moved away from you like before.

“You think you’re the only one who has her defenses up. You think you’re the only one who’s trying to protect yourself from heartache. But guess what, everybody is like that. And for the first time in three years, I let my defenses down.” He gently poked your forehead with his index finger and whispered: “For you.”

“Hyungwon, you should come in. You need to sleep it off.”

He stared at you with glossy eyes reflecting a world of pain and your heart ached for him. This time, he let you embrace him, his head sinking onto your shoulder as his arms wrapped around you tightly. You didn’t know what to say – you didn’t know what there was left to say. And even if there was, if this would be the right time to say it. After a few minutes, you pulled back and held his face between your hands to get him to look at you.

“Please come in, Hyungwon,” you pleaded. He stared at you for a moment before suddenly standing up straight, forcing you to let go of him.

“No,” he said quietly but firmly. “No, I don’t think so.”

The train was rattling along peacefully, stopping every few minutes to let out passengers or welcome new ones in. It was Monday afternoon; too late for housewives doing their grocery shopping and too early for schoolchildren and the working population to crowd the cars. You had snatched up a seat on the very edge of one of the rows facing each other. All of your seminars had taken place in the morning and just after noon. The call had come when your last class had ended. It had been short, uncomfortable at first. But it was the happiest a phone call had ever made you.

“Can you come over? Please?”

“I don’t know, Hyungwon.”

“I really need to talk to you ab-“

“I’m not really in the mood for a booty call.”

“Just get over here, Jesus Christ.”

He had laughed, relief pouring through the line like a spring breeze, and you had hung up. You had decided not to question where he had gotten your number, because as you had only recently remembered, you had never given it to him during or after the night you had spent together. You liked to think that that was the reason he hadn’t called you after, although it was probably a little more complicated than that.

You had replayed the scene at the traffic light a thousand times in your head, but only yesterday had the puzzle pieces finally fit together. Hyungwon had panicked upon seeing the brother of his deceased girlfriend while being with another girl. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was something else, but whatever it was, he had not been able to handle it. You had felt hurt and rejected – and with good reason, too – but you had no idea what Hyungwon must have felt in that moment. No wonder he had reacted so poorly and downplayed your relationship to protect himself, Hyunwoo, and probably even you. There was no way you could have known.

But you were glad that you were finally starting to see the bigger picture.

Hyungwon opened the door. He looked tired and his handsome face was ashy, dark rings and puffy cheeks telling tales of sleepless nights and too much alcohol. You took off your shoes and followed him into the living room. He gestured for you to sit on the sofa before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Tea?”

“Please.”

You heard him fill the electric kettle with water and push the button to make it boil. Then, he came back into the living area and looked at you for what felt like forever before speaking.

“Come here,” he said and held out his hand. You readily got off the couch and took it, the feeling of his skin on yours making your heart race once more. Again, it felt like it had been a long, long time since you had touched him like this, even though it had been less than a week. Hyungwon pushed open the sliding door behind the couch and led you into the room. It was small and crammed, a desktop computer with a huge screen and a wide DJ controller taking up most of the desk space he had created. A worn-out leather office chair was standing in the middle of the space and Hyungwon carelessly pushed it to the side as he walked to the window on the far wall. Underneath it stood a waist-high shelf and on it a framed photo with candles on each side. The frame was black and simple, holding the photo of the girl whose smiling face you had seen for the first time two days ago. She was smiling here, too, but in a more muted way, as if the photographer had told her to look pleasant but not too happy. You approached the makeshift shrine hesitantly and when Hyungwon realized this, he snaked one arm around your waist to pull you close to his side.

“She had cancer,” he suddenly said and you almost flinched at the sound of his voice shattering the silence. “We knew it was coming but it was a shock anyway. We had known each other since we were kids and had been together for two years when she passed away. When she died, I felt like I lost my girlfriend and a sibling all in one day. We were together all the time, and then suddenly there was – nothing.”

You leaned into him to show him you were listening. It made sense now. The clothes he had given you, the water, the extra towel. He had been used to a girl being in the house and to taking care of her – only it had been a long time ago.

“I threw myself into music. It was the only thing that could distract me. The volume, the numbing beats, the flashing lights, it all helped keeping her off my mind for a little while. Then I learned how to make music while thinking of all the good memories, and I started to really love what I was doing. The pain slowly began to wash away, but I still didn’t seem to be moving forward. So I quit school and started DJ-ing full time. The scene wasn’t quite my style but I still had fun with the other DJs, talking about music and the nightlife. Hyunwoo has been on my case forever about dating, but I wasn’t ready. Then I got this new gig and I figured, what the hell. I asked some people about the girls working at the club and your name came up. I decided to talk to you and you called me the Queen of England, and-“ His voice trailed off and you could feel him shrug. “I didn’t mean to kiss you last week. Or to take you home with me, for that matter. But when I was with you, I realized I was feeling something I hadn’t felt in years, and then the thought of you leaving suddenly scared me. So I kissed you.”

“You must think I’m such an idiot,” you whispered, hiding your face in the front of his sweater. Hyungwon gently started to stroke the back of your head with his free hand.

“No, it made sense when I thought about it. The way I acted in front of Hyunwoo. That thing on stage. The photos.” Hyungwon tsk-ed. “He really didn’t have to do that.”

You giggled. “I really wanted to just punch you in the face when I saw those.”

“That’s funny, because I wanted to punch him in the face when I saw those.”

“He really just did that so you’d tell me about her?”

“Yeah. I told him after you left that day that I thought I might like you. I guess he saw his chance and took it.” Hyungwon leaned down to kiss the top of your head. “I’m sorry this all went so horribly.”

“That’s okay.” You tilted your head back to look up at him. “We’re okay.”

Hyungwon gave a wry smile and cradled your head in his big hand. His face slowly moved closer to you, his eyes staring into yours until your lips met, and with a simple kiss all the intimacy and the magic had been restored. The water came to a boil and Hyungwon took your hand, leading you back into the kitchen.

“I’ll put the photo away,” he said as he took two mugs out of a cabinet and filled his French press with water.

“You don’t have to do that,” you insisted although you had to admit the thought of his ex-girlfriend’s photo staying in his workroom permanently did not exactly make you feel comfortable. However, you were more than willing to allow him to let go whenever he was ready, regardless of how your relationship would develop.

Hyungwon smiled and chose a different kind of tea for you this time, a sweet, fruity tea that defied the bleakness of winter.

“No,” he said and handed you the cup. “It’s time.”

You watched him push down the plunger of the French press and pour his coffee before asking the question that had been on your mind ever since Sunday morning, when Hyungwon had drunkenly unraveled all the misunderstandings on your doorstep.

“Do I remind you of her?”

Hyungwon seemed surprised at your words. He blew on his coffee, giving them some thought.

“No,” he finally said, slowly, rolling the word on his tongue as if to test it for its truthfulness. “I think you are pretty different from her.”

“Oh yeah?” you continued, and smile playing around the corners of your mouth. Hyungwon smacked his lips and smirked.

“Yeah. For one, she loved EDM and coffee.” He kissed you softly on the forehead and walked to the sofa. You followed him.

“Funny.”

“It’s true!” he insisted. “Also, she didn’t snore as much as you do.”

“I don’t snore!” you protested, sitting down on the couch next to him. “How dare you.”

“Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out.” Hyungwon’s sly expression gave you pause.

“And what would that be?”

“Stay the night.” He took your mug from your hand and set it down along with his. “I feel like we have a lifetime of catching up to do.”

“Hyungwon-“

“Two lifetimes, in fact.” He cupped your face with his hand and kissed you gently, his lips lingering against yours before he pulled back less than an inch. “Please. Stay with me.”

“Okay,” you gave up the resistance you didn’t have in the first place. You studied his beautiful dark eyes, his rounded nose, his lips that were stretched into a content smile. Your hand found his hair and you gently combed it out of his face, marveling at this beautiful boy who was almost too good to be real.

Almost.

“Your tea is getting cold,” he whispered but you shook your head with a wicked grin.

“I don’t care,” you said.

And then you kissed him.

The music was bouncing off the walls, vibrating, leaving people ecstatic and wishing the night would never end. The crowd was a melting pot of people from all kinds of paths of life, brought together by the beats and bass, melody and movement, all at the tips of Hyungwon’s fingers. His white shirt was sweaty, his equally light hair parted down the middle and hanging down his face in wet strands. He was dancing and jumping along with the masses, leading their euphoria with every new song and every new drop. He was smiling widely, happily, carefree. He had left the club where you had met behind in favor of larger venues and festivals. Sometimes you both still went back, to meet old friends or old memories. It was the place where you had left them behind, where they were safekept by times long gone but not forgotten. But you had since moved on.

And the apartment you had bought together was filled with new and happy memories.

Hyungwon’s head spun around and his eyes found yours on the side of the stage. You still didn’t love EDM, but you loved watching him when he was behind the turntables. You loved his energy, his enthusiasm, loved seeing a part of him that only emerged when he was on stage. And you loved the way he supported you in turn, whether you were working late nights or early mornings, or nights that turned into mornings. Hyungwon was always there with some encouraging words and a cup of tea. It was almost too good to be real.

But it was.

He waved you over and you jogged across the stage to the booth, keeping your head low and standing half behind him when you had reached him. Hyungwon smiled widely, took the headphones that were hanging around his neck and put them on you. You could hear the next song in the queue, listening for a bit until you noticed Hyungwon looking at you expectantly, running one hand through his hair. You held his gaze and lifted your right forefinger. When you gave him the cue, Hyungwon let the songs bleed into each other until the new one took over, making the crowd holler with excitement. You could feel the ground shaking, the speakers booming, and you slid off the headphones to take in the moment fully. Hyungwon laughed, although the sound did not reach your ears. He took the headphones back and placed them around his neck. You had retreated a little bit again so that he had to turn around to face you. He leaned down to kiss you and put his forehead against yours. His mouth formed the words you didn’t need to hear to know them like the beating of your heart.

I love you.

You grinned at him and threw your arms around his neck to pull him down and kiss him again, longer, deeper; and on his tongue you could taste the sweetness of years passed and years to come, with just a hint of coffee.

[keeblochan]

I really fricken love @the-modern-typewriter and have accidentally discovered how much I need hero/villain writing in my life, so here is my attempt at satisfying my own needs with an idea I thought would be neat: hero caught in pajamas while going to the gas station early in the morning for coffee.

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           4:30 in the morning. The hero scrubs their eyes with their palms tiredly, wondering just whenever they would manage to get on a proper schedule. They shut off their car and shuffle out into the cool dark of the morning. The gas station is a decent drive from their home considering that they live out in the middle of nowhere, but it is the second week in a row they have forgotten to buy groceries and they badly need a snack and some coffee. They had woken up in a cold sweat earlier and, unable to fall back asleep, decided on going to the gas station so they could at least preoccupy their self.

           The hero buries their hands further into the pockets as they walk into the brightly lit store. A yawn passes their lips just as they eye the plethora of coffee machines along the back wall. They sniff, pausing in front of the coffee pots. They peer down and grab a 20 oz Styrofoam cup before leveling their gaze and considering again. Usually, they have a medium roast with a creamer or sugar, but the pounding fatigue behind their eyes tells them that perhaps today they should go with a dark roast. They settle on the French roast and slowly pour and pour and pour and pour until their cheap cup is full to the brim with the dark, earthy smelling liquid.

           “French roast, hm? I never thought of you as one to drink a dark roast…black.” The voice comes from behind the hero’s shoulder causing them to jump and nearly spill their coffee over their hands. There’s a deep chuckle and the hero whips their head around. They knew the voice had been familiar but still. Their stomach drops.

           “What are you doing here?” The hero’s fingers twitch on their cup and they become suddenly very aware of the cashier and the singular other person wandering the store. The villain’s lips tug up a fraction more.

           “I suppose the same as you, doll. I needed a quick coffee this morning.” The villain’s smile doesn’t change as they look the hero up and down. The hero suddenly feels very small and very defenseless. Their hand twitches on their cup and a dozen different plans of action run through their head. But they couldn’t fight here, not exposed and endangering other people. The hero stares down the villain sharply as they grab their self a cup. The villain makes a show out of deciding which coffee to go with before pouring three-quarters of a cup with a blond roast and then topping it off with half-and-half.

           “You know,” the villain begins, not looking at the hero, “blond roasts actually have more caffeine in them because they aren’t roasted as much.” The villain snaps a lid onto their cup and directs a smile at the hero again. “I’m feeling charitable this morning, so how about a doughnut on me?” The villain’s voice is low and sends an unwanted chill up the hero’s spine and heat to their cheeks. They open their mouth to protest when the villain snakes their arm around the hero’s waist and directs them towards the display of doughnuts. They stand, side-to-side, the hero in old, gray sweats and an even older hoodie with the faded logo of their college fencing team. In contrast, the villain eyes the fully stocked shelves wearing dark joggers and an oversized, yet much too fashionable for this early in the morning sweater. The villain turns their head to look down at the hero, revealing how they had been staring.

           The hero looks away in embarrassment and takes their own turn in examining the contents of the doughnut display case, acutely aware of the villain’s eyes on them. Somehow, standing here in a gas station in their pajamas with the villain’s arm tucked firm around their waist, it seems as if they are two entirely separate people who don’t spend their lives fighting each other. The hero cautions a look back at the villain whose gaze has once again settled on the doughnuts.

           “I think blueberry will compliment this morning’s coffee best. Decided what you want yet, darling?” The villain steps forward to swing open the glass doors and pick their doughnut up with the provided tissue paper. The hero’s face heats even more. They splutter while the villain one-handedly grabs and opens a bag to put their doughnut inside of.

           “I don’t need anything…especially from you.” The hero shifts, trying to slyly step out of the hold around their waist to little avail. The gas station door jingles as another person steps in. The hero swallows thickly.

           “Oh, my sweet,” the villain pulls the hero into their chest, meeting their gazes with an intense edge, “I don’t remember asking if you needed anything.” The villain’s dark eyes hold the hero’s so intently that they seem to momentarily forget the world. They swallow and wet their lips, trying to find a witty retort in their exhausted haze. The villain’s eyes flick down for a fraction of a second when the hero licks their lips. Fingers tighten on the hero’s side, drawing the two a fraction closer. Their noses brush and the hero drops their gaze, heart hammering. The villain has always flustered the hero in their smooth and lithe mannerisms, but that had always been in battle, at odds and ends of weapons. This wasn’t fire and blood and hiding behind different identities. This was standing pressed together in a gas station at 4:35 in the morning in pajamas and swimming in fatigue. One of the other customers stands off to the side, clearly waiting. The hero feels an ever-growing embarrassment and turns their head towards the display case.

           “Cinnamon,” they mumble out in a hurry. The villain cocks their head, not having expected an answer, before taking another piece of tissue paper and pulling out a cinnamon doughnut to add to the plastic baggy. The two then walk away from the display and towards the register.

           “These and their coffee as well,” the villain says after setting down the items in their hand. The cashier, a disinterested teenager, looks at the villain and then at the hero who smiles sheepishly. The cashier raises an eyebrow and types into the register.

           “That will be $5.64,” the cashier mutters. The villain slides a ten over the counter and grins at the hero.

           “Keep the change for the next customer.” With that, the villain flashes a handsome smile, scoops up the items and whisks the hero towards the exit. The morning air seems even chillier when they exit the store, a bell dinging behind them. The hero breathes out a long breath and grips their coffee tighter in their hand.

           “Awful kind this morning. I hope you weren’t expecting to change my opinion of you by buying me coffee and a doughnut.” The two pause just off of the sidewalk. The villain snorts out laugh, fingers squeezing into the hero’s side again.

           “Of course not,” the villain murmurs, “I would never try to change your opinion of me with something as low as bribery.” That wickedly handsome smile flashes again. “I, however, am not above inviting you home to try and convince you.” The words are whispered warm and hushed against the hero’s ear. They swear they can hear their heart stuttering in the morning air. The villain chuckles and brushes their lips to the hero’s temple.

           “I don’t believe you. You would never let me know where you live.” The hero pulls back despite the tug in their stomach that longs for the warm press of skin against their own. The villain shrugs and starts walking towards the hero’s car.

           “Be as that may, you didn’t say no.” The villain stops just in front of the hero’s door, preventing them from getting in. Before they can bite out a reply, the villain leans down and presses a chaste, but warm kiss to the hero’s lips. Behind their closed eyes, all the hero sees is the upturned lips and the dangerous eyes of the villain. “You can follow me, it’s not too far of a drive from here.” The villain pulls back entirely cool and collected while the hero’s brain short circuits. A warm hand leaves the hero’s waist and the villain steps around them to head to their own car. The hero flounders for a few seconds longer before turning and watching the villain’s dark form walking away.

           “Oh, and by the way,” the villain says, turning their head back towards the hero, “don’t worry about the dogs. They don’t bite.” The villain’s laugh echoes in the hero’s ears long after they get in their car and leave the gas station. As they follow a set of tail lights through the dark, they can’t help but think that the last thing they’re worried about is being bitten by a dog. Instead, the consequences of making the incredibly stupid decision to take up the villain on their offer bounces in their head as they turn and follow the sleek car into the driveway of a beautiful house.

[topairguns-blog]

How to Set Up Your Rifle and Scope for Long-Range Dialing

Six days I'd been chasing one major donkey deer buck; six days of feline and-mouse moves among the sagebrush and pinyon/juniper breaks of southern Utah. I'd seen him twice since first light broke on opening day, however had no shot either time. Presently I was only seconds into the third experience, however the buck was 350 yards away, and a tad of his body appeared over the savvy as he perused toward a little coulee. Choosing gun is not a easy task but you can read reviews that make it easy to choose the gun according to your requirement. The shot open door was little, yet it was all I had, and all I was probably going to get. Paunch down behind my Gunwerks rifle, I came to up and dialed my turret to peruse 350 yards. Settling my focus on the modest noticeable part of the buck's vitals, I squeezed the trigger—checkmate.

When chasing the wide-open spaces of the West, having the option to dial the turret on your extension so you can hold the line of sight legitimately on vitals for a shot is a gigantic favorable position. No additionally holding "a body-width over his back." Just run your quarry, dial the proper "come-up," go for the vitals and shoot. A year ago alone, I extended and dialed for my shot on three of the four major game creatures I gathered, and every wa a first-shot murder. We should investigate how to set up your own rifle, extension and turret to dial for testing, broadened range shooting.

Turret Techniques

There are a few decent approaches to set your rifle and degree up to dial for separation. You can essentially utilize the MOA or Mil turret that went ahead your extension matched with a drop-diagram or ballistic application on your telephone. You can get a yardage-stamped turret made explicitly for your arrangement, or you can utilize one of the new "savvy" rangefinders that process all the ballistic and barometrical components and give you the right come-up. Here's a gander at all three techniques, with their qualities and shortcomings.

MOA/Mil Turret and Ballistic App or Drop Chart: This technique is useful for sport shooting, and you'll go through it while working your DOPE card (I'll clarify that later). It's exact insofar as you probably are aware careful atmospherics, yet it's moderate. You need to run the creature, enter or look to the suitable data on your application or outline, dial the come-up into your turret, and after that shoot. The technique works and I've utilized it a great deal, yet it's moderate and avoids your concentration from your quarry.

MOA/Mil Turret and Smart Rangefinder: Another incredible framework includes a MOA or Mil turret and a ballistic-skilled rangefinding binocular, similar to the new Zeiss Victory RF. You enter your ballistics into the rangefinding bino by means of Bluetooth or scaled down SD card. At that point, when you run an objective, it figures height, weight, temperature, edge and your ballistics in a millisecond and gives you the range and a dial-to arrangement. You should simply turn your turret and take the shot. The detriment to this framework is that it's reliant on modern hardware and interfaces. In the case of something comes up short, your framework is done for.

Yardage-Marked Turret: In my assessment, the best all-around framework for chasing is a turret that is laser-engraved with yardage marks; which means you basically extend your objective, wrench the turret to the coordinating yardage and take the shot. One impediment to this framework is that the turret doesn't make up for points should you have to take a precarious tough or downhill shot. Utilizing a rangefinder that produces edge redressed, or "genuine ballistic range" yardages effectively cures this. The subsequent detriment is that every turret is intended for explicit atmospherics. In the event that you travel to chase various heights (in excess of 2,000 ft. extraordinary), you'll need an alternate turret for the new area. Be that as it may, this framework is quick and straightforward—ideal for those difficult open doors at major game.

Obviously, joining the frameworks makes the ideal marriage. Look at my turret in the photograph above: it highlights two revolutions of yardage markings around the periphery and MOA markings around the top edge. Leupold made it impeccably to my determinations, and it empowers me to cross-reference the frameworks for an idiot proof arrangement. Most optics makers offer custom-cut turrets for their degrees, or you can arrange a specially crafted turret for your extension from a turret organization like Kenton Industries.

Start With the Right Rifle

The conspicuous establishment to a decent arrangement for western chasing type shots is your rifle and bore. So how about we investigate: A great long-run rifle must be exact, steady and loaded in a streamlined bore. I like my rifles lightweight since I do a ton of mountain chasing. Perfect chamberings for long separation western chasing incorporate the 6.5 Creedmoor, 6.5 PRC, .280 Ackley Improved, 7mm Rem. Mag., .28 Nosler, .300 Win. Mag., and .300 PRC. They're streamlined, which means they keep up downrange vitality and speed well.

You can utilize your old steadfast rifle in .270 Win. or on the other hand .30-06 Sprg., yet it's not liable to be as steady or as precise, and those superb old cartridges aren't intended to be as streamlined—they'll have a shorter most extreme range. All things considered, a great extension that is set up right can twofold your powerful go, even with those bores.

[interiordesigntorontonews]

How to Photograph Interiors - Part 2: Photography

Welcome to the second installment of our in a three-part series on How to Photograph Interiors. In Part 1 of the series, our amazing author Janet Kwan of Janet Kwan Photography gave us a lesson on how to prepare your interior for an interior photo shoot. After working through her prep checklist, Janet has got us ready to start taking pictures.

So get your camera ready and let’s dive into Janet’s second lesson on how to photograph interiors….

Part 2: Photography

Welcome to the second instalment of How to Photograph Interiors. In part 1, I shared a checklist on how to prepare for a shoot. Once you’ve gone through that list, you’re now ready to shoot.

Photographed for The Kwendy Home

Equipment

It’s important to use the appropriate equipment for a professional photography assignment. But I want to emphasize that it’s crucial to learn the proper technique (eg. lighting and composition) first before investing in expensive gear. The best equipment can’t save a poorly-photographed, out-of-focus image.

Camera

With that said, a full-frame camera is recommended because it has a larger sensor than a crop sensor camera. Because of this, it will perform better in low-light situations. It’ll also give your camera the ability to use lenses to their full potential. In this article, we’ll be referring to a full-frame camera and FX lenses.

Lens

I use prime lenses (ie. fixed focal length) so they don’t zoom in or out. I prefer prime lenses over zoom lenses because of the range of work I shoot. The smaller size and weight of these lenses plus their wider apertures make them better suited for my style of photography. But you may find that zooms work better for you because you don’t have to switch lenses as often.

Here are some of the common lenses used in interior photography:

Wide Lens

Use a wide lens with a focal length of 24mm to capture the entire room. For example, a 24mm or 24-70mm lens (used at 24mm).

You could use an even wider lens such as the 16-35mm in some situations, but I’d avoid an ultra-wide lens like a 12-24mm. If you must use it, use it sparingly and be aware of distortion towards the corners of the photo. It’ll stretch the room and create an unwanted warping effect. In that case, you may need to adjust the perspective or crop the photo in post-processing to remove the stretched part of the image.

Medium Lens

A 35mm lens is one of my go-to lenses because it captures the scene with a similar focal length to the human eye. This gives the viewer an accurate idea of what they would see if they were in the room. The 35mm doesn’t create a lot of distortion either, which is a big advantage over ultra-wide lenses.

For mid-range details, the 50mm lens is great for the job. It’s not too wide and not too tight so you can focus on an area while still capturing the environment for context.

Long Lens

For detail shots, an 85mm or 24-70mm (used at 70mm) is useful to create vignettes within a room. They allow you to highlight specific objects or features of the room.

Tilt-Shift Lens

If you’re serious about interior and architectural photography, consider investing in a specialty tilt-shift lens with a focal length of 19mm or 24mm. A tilt-shift lens has the ability to both tilt and shift which allows the camera body to remain level while the lens changes the focusing plane. For example, if you’re photographing a tall building, the camera does not need to point up or down to capture the entire building because the lens will correct that angle.

Tripod

A sturdy tripod is highly recommended, especially in low-light situations where you may need to use a slower shutter (eg. 1/80s, 1/30s, etc.) to keep the camera in the same position when exposure bracketing. It will also save your back from having to crouch or bend down constantly to get a shot.

Tether Cable

Shooting tethered is beneficial for you and your client because the screen on the back of your camera is small. These small details can go unnoticed at first glance. With the camera tethered to a laptop, you’re able to zoom into different areas of the image to see if you need to make any changes before moving on.

Photographed for Oak and Isaac/Kelly Johnson

Camera Settings

File Format

Shoot in RAW format (instead of JPG or other formats) so that the files are uncompressed versions. Depending on the camera brand, they may have a different file extension like .NEF or .CR2). These RAW files give you the most flexibility and control when capturing a wide range of lighting and when editing in post-processing.

ISO

Generally, you want to maintain a low ISO to prevent grain (also known as digital noise) from appearing in the image. The ideal ISO is between 100-400. If there isn’t enough light, you’ll have to make adjustments to either your shutter speed, aperture or introduce artificial light.

Aperture

For shots of large spaces with a lot of depth, use a smaller aperture so that everything from the foreground to the background is in focus. An aperture in the range of f8-f11 is ideal but sometimes you may need to open up the aperture a bit to f5.6 to keep your ISO between 100-400.

When shooting details and vignettes, you can use a wider aperture (around f2.0-f3.5) to create bokeh in the image.

Shutter Speed

Out of the 3 main camera settings we talk about (ISO, aperture, shutter speed) your shutter speed is the most flexible if you have a tripod. If you’re in a low-light situation and your ISO is at 400 and your aperture is at f5.6 already, you can slow your shutter speed to allow more light into the camera. In those situations, it’s important to use a tripod and the camera’s timer or a remote trigger to prevent camera shake.

White Balance

Most of the time, the camera’s auto white balance does a good job of capturing the overall colour temperature. However, if the room has colourful walls, wallpaper or furniture, they might reflect those colours back into the room. This will affect the white balance. For example, if the wall is green, it could cause the room to have a slightly green hue in the photo. To correct this, first use a grey card to set the white balance in your camera or adjust the white balance temperature in Kelvin. The white balance can also be corrected in post-processing if you don’t have a grey card.

Photographed for The Kwendy Home

Lighting

Time of Day

Find out which direction each room faces and pick a time of day where the light will be even in that room. For north and south-facing rooms, choose a time when there is the most light. For east and west-facing rooms, avoid shooting when the sun is shining directly into the room, which can cause glare and hot spots on surfaces. I generally shoot between 10am-2pm if I want even lighting. In some cases, I may shoot when there is more light streaming in through the windows if I’m going for a specific look.

Exterior photos can be taken outside of those times, at sunrise or sunset, when the sun is lower on the horizon, creating a nice glow without harsh light.

Keep in mind that these times will change slightly depending on the season and location as the sun will rise and set differently. If possible, scout the location ahead of time or ask the homeowner to take a few photos on their phone at different times of the day so you know what you’re working with.

Natural Light v Artificial Light

There are different views on this, but ultimately it depends on the style and look that you and the client are going for.

Natural light is great for interior photography and is often used to feature a room during the day. Turn off lamps or overhead lights to avoid mixed lighting, which can cast colours and shadows. If a certain spot in the room is darker than you’d like, try using a large reflector to bounce light. On the other hand, if there is too much light coming in from one area off-camera, use a large diffuser to soften the light. These reflectors can be found on Amazon or used from other photographers. They’re a powerful and affordable way to shape light in many situations.

When you need to use artificial light, a flash unit with a shoot-through umbrella can help fill in the shadows. Make sure the flash doesn’t overpower the rest of the room. You don’t want the artificial light to be a distraction and take the attention away from the room.

It may make sense to turn on a lamp or overhead lights if it adds to the ambiance of the room. But be sure to keep the lighting consistent if you go that route.

Bracketing

The amount of light within a room will vary. The windows may be blown out while a corner will be dark. This is where bracketing can even out the light so that every part of the room is exposed properly. Bracketing is when you take a minimum of 3 photos at different exposures and merge them in post-processing.

First, take a photo that is exposed for somewhere in the middle. That means that the meter in the camera is in the centre. Then take a photo that is underexposed. Usually, this is where you properly expose for the windows to get the details back. For this shot, don't worry about the rest of the room being too dark. Then take an overexposed photo, where you properly expose for the darker areas of the room. In this shot, the bright areas of the room will likely be blown out.

We’ll talk about what to do with these photos in the post-processing part of this series.

Photographed for Jennifer McLean

Composition

Hero Shot

Start with the wide establishing shot by picking out one perspective that will be your hero shot. This is the shot that sets the scene and is the best representation of the room. If the space is huge, there might be two hero shots from different angles.

Make sure to take your time with this shot. Walk around to all corners of the room to select the best angle. Remember that what you see in person can look different in the camera so use your viewfinder or live view.

Watch out for items that are misaligned or appear to be overlapping another object. Refer to the checklist in Part 1 of this series.

Angle

The 2 most common wide shots are:

Shoot the entire room with your camera parallel to the far wall and

Shoot with the corner of the room in your frame.

Aside from detail and vignette shots, photos of a room should show at least some of the floor in the frame.

Shoot from an approximately mid-level height of the room or commonly referred to as waist level. This depends on the room though. For the living room, shoot from waist height will work well, but you may need to shoot a bit higher in the kitchen because of the countertop. The idea is that you want to capture the height of the room evenly without pointing the camera up or down into a room. The grid in your camera’s viewfinder or live view screen should be parallel to the walls and perpendicular to the ground and ceiling.

Use the level on the tripod or get a small hotshoe bubble level to ensure that the camera isn’t crooked. This will save you a lot of time in post-processing.

If you’re shooting a room with a table (eg. dining table, coffee table, kitchen countertop), make sure the camera is not shooting below the horizon of that surface, otherwise, the focus will be on what’s under the table.

Take a variety of landscape (horizontal) and portrait (vertical) shots so that you have options for websites, social media channels or print publications. Use objects, furniture and walls to guide the viewer’s eye to what you want them to see.

Use symmetry and negative space in your composition.

As mentioned in Part 1, interior photography showcases the room and its design as opposed to the scale of the space so you don’t always have to capture everything in the room at one time.

Photographed for Vintage and Teak

Details

Once the overview shots are done, move in to take some mid-range and detail photos, also known as vignettes. Focus on a smaller area of the room (eg. shelf, fireplace, stove, side table) and then followed by details (eg. hardware, decor). Create a different feel by taking the shot from a different angle.

Focus

Choose your subject in the room to focus the camera on, such as the couch, bed or dining table. Make sure it’s completely in focus before taking the photo. When the camera is set to autofocus, look for an autofocus indicator light in the viewfinder or screen (usually a small solid circle). This indicator will light up when properly focussed on the subject.

Reflections

As you’re shooting, look out for reflective surfaces so that you or your camera gear don’t appear in a mirror or a shiny object.

Review

After taking the standard photos of the room, go over your photos in-camera to make sure you’ve taken enough to fully capture the space before moving on. The next step in your photo shoot - Post-Processing - will be covered in part 3 of the How to Photograph Interiors series!

Stay tuned.

LINKS

Part 1: Preparation

Part 2: Photography

Part 3: Post-Processing

Glossary of Terms

Full frame vs cropped sensor – A full frame sensor is roughly the size as the “old” 35mm frame of film. Lenses are made to create a circle of light just large enough to cover that area (covering power). In a cropped sensor camera the physical size of the sensor is smaller so it only captures a portion of the entire image the lens is projecting, effectively cropping part of the image out. For more information on this see “Crop factor explained“. Common crop factors are 1.5 or 1.6x so if you put on a 50mm lens it is more like a 75mm with a 1.5x crop factor.

Popular full frame cameras

Budget friendly full frame cameras

DX and FX Format Lenses - In digital SLR cameras, the camera's format refers to the size of its image sensor. Nikon and other manufacturers make both DX-format sensors and FX-format sensors. The DX-format is the smaller sensor at 24x16mm; the larger FX-format sensor measures 36x24mm which is approximately the same size as 35mm film.

Prime Lenses - A prime lens is one that has just one focal length only (in contrast to a zoom lens that covers a wider range of lengths).

Prime lenses come in a wide range of focal lengths from wide angles through to the very longest of tele-photo lenses used by many sports photographers and paparazzi.

Tripods - The primary purpose of the tripod is to hold a camera completely steady—zero movement and vibration. However, the tripod is far from a one-size-fits-all-photographic accessory. Although they all look about the same—three legs and a part where the camera attaches, etc., there are many brands, styles, and variations. Some differences are centered on personal preference such as color; others are more purpose-driven. Manfrotto tripods are probably the most popular and highly recommended among professionals. More info on tripods.

Tether Tools is the most popular brand of tethering cable. Third party ones can be found for a fraction of the price, but the build quality and reliability of data transfer may not be as good.

ISO – stands for International Standards Organization and represents the sensitivity of your camera’s digital sensor to light. The lower the number (ISO 100), the less sensitive, the higher the number (ISO 3200) the more sensitive. A higher ISO allows you to shoot in low light conditions. Learn more about ISO and how to use it in your photography.

Aperture – the variable opening in the lens through which light passes to the film or digital sensor. Measured in f-stops. I like to compare it to your pupil which opens and closes to allow more or less light to enter your eye depending on the brightness level of the room. Learn more about Aperture and how to use it here.

Shutter speed – the amount of time the shutter is opened during an exposure. The shutter speed controls motion. Use a fast speed (like 1/2000th of a second) to freeze motion, or a slow one (1/4 of a second or longer) to blur moving objects. Learn more about shutter speed and how to control it in this article from www.digital-photography-school.com.

Kelvin – is the absolute measurement of colour temperature. On your camera under the White Balance settings you make see a “K” setting. This allows you to adjust the colour manually by degrees kelvin. The lower numbers represent warmer colours like orange (tungsten light) and the higher numbers are cooler (blues). Play with this scale to create different affects.

Hot shoe bubble level - A hot shoe bubble level mounts onto any standard hot shoe on a camera. It allows you to precisely align the camera on two planes, to ensure that the horizon line is absolutely straight.

Hot shoe - A hot shoe is a connector on a digital or analog camera. It is used to connect a variety of devices that communicate with the camera. If the hot shoe has a metal contact, the device can then ‘talk’ to the camera. You will usually find the hot shoe on the highest point of the camera when held upright. For most DSLRs, it is located above the pop-up flash, and directly in the center.

Vignette photography is defined as a reduction of an image's brightness or saturation toward the periphery compared to the image center. This technique is best know in portrait photographs that are clear at the center and fade off toward the edges.

About the Author

Janet is a lifestyle photographer based in Toronto, Canada, specializing in business branding, interior and product photography. She works with small to large companies to create custom professional photos for their branding and marketing needs. Her work has been published in Apartment Therapy and The Jungalow. Some of her past clients include Airbnb, McDonald's Canada, Vichy, Haagen-Dazs, The Distillery Historic District and more. She loves The Office, sunsets and exploring the different neighbourhoods in Toronto.

Contact the Author

Website: https://www.janetkwan.com Instagram: @janetkwan

[paleorecipecookbook]

RHR: How to Address the Root Cause of Your Asthma

In this episode, we discuss:

Why the root cause of asthma is immune dysregulation

Four potential triggers for your asthma

How to balance your immune system

Show notes:

“RHR: What You Should Know about Histamine Intolerance,” by Chris Kresser

“Got Allergies? Your Microbes Could Be Responsible,” by Chris Kresser

The Paleo Cure, by Chris Kresser

“RHR: Low-Dose Naltrexone (LDN) as a Treatment for Autoimmune Disease,” by Chris Kresser

[smart_track_player url="https://ift.tt/2Q9nrG4" title="RHR: How to Address the Root Cause of Your Asthma" artist="Chris Kresser" ]

Chris Kresser:  Hey, everybody. Chris Kresser here. Welcome to another episode of Revolution Health Radio. This week we’re going to answer a question from a listener.

Jenny:  Hi, Chris, this is Jenny. I have a question for the podcast. I have asthma. It's not severe, but I've been on an inhaler for many, many years. I take the Flovent inhaler. It's the only medication that I take. I am a regular athlete. I do a lot of exercise and do some running races, and I've done some triathlons, shorter distances as well. So it's not exercise-induced, but it's something that when I try to get off the medication, it's very difficult.

So I just wanted to see if you had any information on how to get rid of it. I am experimenting with the low-dose allergy LDA treatments right now with my Functional Medicine doctor. But I just wanted to see if you had any other thoughts on asthma. I know a lot of people out there have asthma and if you have anything that you suggest to be done. I have celiac disease, so I obviously don't eat any gluten, and I don't believe that I'm eating anything that is triggering the asthma. If anything, I think it's triggered by environmental like grass and things like that. That would be my guess. However, I'm not really 100 percent sure.

So if you have any suggestions, I'd appreciate it. Thanks a lot for all the information you provide.

Why the Root Cause of Asthma Is Immune Dysregulation

Chris Kresser:  Thanks so much, Jenny, for sending in your question. Asthma is a huge problem. It affects about 8 percent of the U.S. population, which is about 25 million Americans, including many children. And it is increasing every day in the U.S.

Functional Medicine is always oriented toward addressing the root cause of disease, and with asthma that root cause is immune dysregulation. So we can think of immune dysregulation in three broad categories. One would be weakened immunity, so getting frequent colds and flu and other conditions. A second would be autoimmunity, where the body is attacking itself, and the third would be hyperactivity or hyperreactivity.

Do you dream of getting rid of your asthma and ditching your inhaler altogether? It might be possible—if you can address the root cause of the problem. Check out this episode of RHR to learn how to identify the triggers for your asthma and balance out your immune system.

Hyperreactivity could be against environmental antigens like dust or pollen or even mold or food antigens like gluten or dairy or chemicals like herbicides and pesticides. I think asthma probably falls into the third category of hyperreactivity, and that reactivity in the case of asthma is often directed at environmental antigens and toxins including molds, food, microbes in the gastrointestinal tract, proteins inappropriately getting into the bloodstream by a leaky gut, chemicals like dyes and preservatives in foods, pesticides and herbicides, as I mentioned. But from a Functional Medicine perspective, the issue is not really with these substances per se, it's with the immune system's reaction to them. So that isn't to say that these substances aren't harmful in their own right. Given enough exposure to them, many of them are, of course. But not everybody will have asthma in response to exposure to low levels of these substances. And that's why it's important to consider asthma as a condition that's characterized by immune dysfunction or a dysregulation.

Four Potential Triggers for Your Asthma

In Functional Medicine, we can break down the approach to asthma in two broad steps:

The first would be to identify and address potential triggers of immune dysfunction, and

The second would be to take specific steps to balance and regulate the immune system.

Unfortunately, this can be quite an involved process because there are many potential triggers to consider. But let's just talk about some of the main ones.

1. Food Intolerances

So diet of course, is one of the biggest triggers not only for asthma but for many other conditions. Food intolerances are very common in people with asthma, especially to gluten and dairy. And these are not often tested for in conventional medical settings, and when they are tested for, the type of testing that is done is inadequate. So, for example, the typical test for gluten intolerance might include alpha-gliadin and then possibly tissue transglutaminase. And those are common markers that would be elevated in gluten intolerance, but there are many, many people who have gluten intolerance who are reacting to different proteins and different epitopes of the proteins in gluten. And those will be missed if only those two markers are measured.

So that can be a big problem and it can lead people astray. They can be led to believe that they are not gluten intolerant even when they are. And then dairy proteins are also a common issue with people with asthma. And again, the testing for this is not very good in the conventional setting, when it's done at all. So the best way still for most people to determine this is a strict elimination diet where you remove gluten and dairy from your diet for 30, 60 days. Sixty is better, and then you add them back in and you see what happens. And if the asthma improves significantly when you're not eating gluten and/or dairy, that's really the only test you need in terms of figuring this out. And if it gets worse when you add them back in, that's even more conclusive.

But there are also other things in food that could be problematic. Chemicals and additives, I mentioned before. We live in a society in the U.S. where 60 percent of people's calories come from highly processed and refined foods and these can include all kinds of chemicals and additives, dyes, and then of course sugar and industrial seed oils. And many of these are somewhat foreign to us. They have not been around for very long. We don't have a long history of eating them and they're more likely to cause problems for that reason.

Jenny mentioned that she had celiac disease, which of course is an autoimmune disease characterized by gluten intolerance, and that can lead to intestinal permeability, a.k.a. leaky gut. And what happens there is proteins that should stay in the gut as part of normal foods that we eat escape the gut and end up in the bloodstream. And then our immune system attacks those food proteins because it considers them to be foreign invaders, which they are. They really shouldn't be there. And that immune attack and can lead to asthma and allergies and many other conditions that are characterized by immune dysregulation. So it’s not unusual to see people with celiac disease that also have asthma or other immune imbalances.

I mentioned dairy intolerance. A little-known fact is that about half of people, according to one study, with celiac disease are also intolerant of dairy proteins. Yet I rarely hear about conventional doctors who diagnose someone with celiac disease mention this. It may be a lack of awareness. But many people who are gluten intolerant, particularly with celiac disease, will also benefit from removing dairy products for their diet. That doesn’t mean everybody, but it does mean that if you have celiac disease, it's worth testing that out either with proper laboratory testing or by doing an elimination protocol.

Finally, another thing to consider is histamine. As many of you know, I've talked about and written about histamine quite a bit. It’s a mediator of the inflammatory response, particularly when it comes to the allergic response in human beings, and histamine is also found in the diet. So if you eat foods that are high in histamine and you already have fairly high levels of histamine in the body because of an allergic reaction or allergic response or a tendency towards allergy, then eating foods that are high in histamine can push that over the edge and exacerbate symptoms. So for some people with asthma, a low-histamine diet, at least while you're figuring out some of the underlying problems, can be helpful. Being on a really extreme low-histamine diet for an extended period of time is probably not a good idea because you’ll be removing a lot of foods that are otherwise beneficial, particularly fermented foods. But it can be helpful, especially in the short term while you’re figuring everything out.

2. Digestive Problems

The next trigger or mechanism that’s very common for asthma is G.I. issues. So this could include things like:

SIBO, bacterial overgrowth in the small intestine

Chronic gut infections like Helicobacter pylori, or pylori

Fungal overgrowth

Dysbiosis

Intestinal permeability

I mentioned before the mechanism by which intestinal permeability can lead to asthma and allergies and other immune responses. Well, the things that lead to intestinal permeability in the gut are those that I just called out: SIBO, infections, fungal overgrowth, and a disrupted gut microbiome. The gut doesn't just become permeable for no reason, and this is why I think focusing on leaky gut without addressing and identifying and addressing these other underlying causes is usually not a fruitful approach. You really need to look at what's driving the leaky gut in the first place and address those things, and then the gut will usually take care of itself because the cells in the intestine regenerate every few days, and the gut has remarkable healing power once all of the other triggers are removed.

So assuming you’ve tested for and addressed SIBO, infections, fungal overgrowth, etc., with a Functional Medicine provider, then the next step would be to reestablish a healthy microbiome using probiotics and prebiotics and possibly, if necessary, things that specifically address the gut barrier function. Because the barrier system is very important in maintaining the integrity of the gut barrier. As I’ve said now a few times, it can prevent leaky gut and prevent those proteins from inappropriately getting into the bloodstream and triggering that immune reaction.

3. Environmental Toxins

The next major category of triggers is environmental. So this includes toxins that are found in home cleaning and personal care products. It could include mold and other biotoxins that are found in indoor air inside of homes and buildings. It could include particulates and other outdoor air pollution. It's a very broad category, and unfortunately, it's growing all the time. We’re exposed to just an almost inconceivable number of toxins in our environment now.

There's very little regulation that governs which toxins companies can release into the environment. It’s sort of an innocent-until-proven-guilty policy, which is really ridiculous because we’re essentially allowing these companies to experiment on us and our children without our expressed permission and without any controlled monitoring of what the effects of these experiments are.

So I do think that toxins play a pretty significant role in all kinds of chronic diseases, including asthma. So we want to do everything we can to minimize our exposure, especially to the ones that we have control over. So that would mean switching out your home cleaning products for natural alternatives and same with personal care products. It would mean assessing your home, making sure that you don't have a mold problem or other biotoxins in the home that are causing issues. And to the best of your ability living in a place that doesn't have really bad air pollution and if you’re not able to move, to at least get some air filters that you can use in your home, which can be helpful for both indoor and outdoor air quality and reducing your exposure to toxins that you can inhale from the air.

So this is an area where actually a little bit of an effort can go quite a long way, and it's a win-win scenario, no matter what. Even if these things turn out to not be a driving trigger of the asthma, it’s certainly not a bad thing to reduce your exposure to inhaled pollution, either from the outdoors or indoor. And we know that air pollution, for example, is a driver of obesity and metabolic problems and may be a bigger issue in some of the other more commonly considered factors. And there's a growing body of evidence on this now that's coming out. It's really interesting. These particulates in the air pollution can cause a kind of chronic low-grade inflammatory response that can then trigger insulin resistance and weight gain and all kinds of other problems.

4. HPA Axis Dysregulation

So the fourth category of triggers is the HPA axis. We could summarize it with that term. So here we’re talking about stress, sleep deprivation, and then disruption of our circadian rhythm. So let’s talk a little bit about each of those.

The connection between stress and immune dysfunction has been known for thousands of years. It’s talked about in some of the earliest medical texts that came out of China, and it's been a focus of virtually every system of medicine and approach to medicine for as long as we know. And stress impacts the immune system in numerous ways, and it's widely considered to be one of the most significant triggers for autoimmune disease. There have been lots of studies that have shown that stress depletes the immune system and makes you more susceptible to colds and flu. I'm sure everyone listening to this has had their own personal experience of this. We know that students who are approaching final exams, for example, are far more likely to get sick. I’m sure all of you had an experience like that when you’ve been run down from working too much or other stuff going on in your life, stressful events, and you've gotten sick. Everybody knows this whether you know anything about the science or the mechanisms involved. It's very obvious that stress impacts the immune system.

Sleep deprivation is closely related because not getting enough sleep can impact the HPA axis in similar ways that stress does and it's really one of the epidemics of our time. I think about a third of people now are getting fewer than six hours of sleep a night. And this is up from just 2 percent in the 1960s. So pretty profound difference in a half century. And sleep deprivation leads to many of the same kinds of changes in the immune system that you see with stress. So you can see an increase in cortisol levels or eventually a decline in cortisol levels or inappropriate secretion of cortisol at the wrong times. You can see an increase in inflammatory markers, decrease in T regulatory cell function. All kinds of things that could be expected to trigger or exacerbate asthma and other immune dysfunctions.

So then lastly we have disruption of circadian rhythm. We’ve talked about this a lot and I've written about it in my books. But human beings have only recently been exposed to artificial light at night in the last 150 years really of our two-and-a-half-million-year evolutionary history. So a tiny blip. And only recently have we spent significant portions of our time indoors not exposed to natural light during the day. And it turns out this has a profoundly negative impact on our circadian rhythm, or circadian clock. And our circadian clock affects every cell in the body and every system of the body. All organisms on planet Earth evolved in the natural 24-hour light/dark cycle, from the most simple, single-celled organism all the way up to human beings. And that cycle governs virtually every aspect of our physiology. And so will we mess with that, with too much exposure to artificial light at night and not enough exposure during the day, and things like long-distance travel where we cross time zones, and shiftwork, all of which are very common today, that unfortunately has a profound impact on the function of our immune system.

So I would say those are the main categories: diet, gut, environmental, and HPA axis for asthma. But you also want to look at things like nutrient status, particularly magnesium and zinc have been shown to be relevant with asthma, methylation, hormones, chronic infections like tick-borne illness or reactivated viral infections, heavy metals, and other toxins.

How to Balance Your Immune System

If you've addressed many or all of these triggers and you're still having symptoms, then the next step would be to do things that specifically balance and regulate the immune system. So Jenny mentioned low-dose antigen therapy, LDA. That's one thing that can be done and some people have great success with that. You might also want to consider nutrients that support T regulatory cell function like curcumin, glutathione, vitamin D, zinc, and selenium are especially important. You might want to consider phototherapy, or photobiomodulation is another way of putting it. This is using ultraviolet light, typically sunlight or near infrared light, for example, to balance and regulate the immune system. And this is, in fact, we now understand that exposure to sunlight has direct benefits on the immune system that are not mediated by vitamin D. So some of the benefit we get from sunlight is about vitamin D production. But recent studies have shown that even if you take vitamin D out of the equation, just being exposed to sunlight and ultraviolet light has specific and powerful immune benefits. And this may be one reason why we see that autoimmune conditions in things like asthma and allergies are more common the further away from the equator that you get.

Music, pleasure, play, fun, and spending time outdoors have all been shown to have profoundly positive effects on immune function. So you can think of all these things as kind of the antidote to stress and HPA axis dysfunction. I wrote, I have chapters, actually, on all of these things in my first book, The Paleo Cure. And that's one of the main reasons is because these things are so critical to human health. They’re as important as diet, exercise, stress, and sleep, which we tend to talk about a lot, but they really don't get as much attention. And that's a shame because the research is clear on how important these things are. So, for example, some studies have shown that a lack of social support is a greater predictor of early death than smoking 15 cigarettes a day. That's almost hard to believe until you actually see the studies. And so there are all of these things that have been part of our human experience from all throughout the millions of years of our evolution that we don't tend to make time for in today's crazy, fast-paced world. And yet they’re like nutrients for us. They’re critical for our survival and our well-being. So making time for these kinds of activities, especially if you have an immune condition like asthma, is really, really important.

You might want to consider acupuncture. There's not a ton of research for it for asthma. There is some, and anecdotally, I've definitely seen some patients get good results. I wrote a whole series on how I think acupuncture works. It's got nothing to do with chi and energy meridians, which is the explanation that is offered through the Chinese medicine paradigm. And I don't mean to diminish that paradigm. I studied it myself. But I just have a different understanding of how it works. And I think it works by promoting blood flow and the blood carries all of the substances that we need to heal and to be well. It also works by reducing inflammation in the central nervous system, and there is evidence that it can promote immune function. It can also improve T regulatory cell production and differentiation.

So there are some reasons to believe that acupuncture could be beneficial, especially if you get it frequently enough. So finding a community acupuncture clinic, which is a place where you can get really affordable acupuncture treatments and where the acupuncturists are all very experienced with acupuncture because they do so many treatments in their shifts, that that can really make getting treatment two, three times a week initially, which is sometimes what's needed to kind of put the brakes on the inflammatory response possible. And then once you’ve got the inflammation calmed down and you're in a better place, then you can titrate down and switch to a less frequent schedule, like once a week or something like that.

There are several herbs or botanicals that have been shown to be helpful for asthma or just immune regulation in general. These include:

Turmeric

Boswellia

Mullein

Parsley

Ginkgo

You want to definitely avoid herbs that are known to stimulate the immune system, like licorice and echinacea and ginseng, because as I mentioned, asthma is really characterized by a hyper-reactive immune system already. So you wouldn’t want to do something that is going to further activate the immune system. And the tonic herbs like licorice, immune-boosting herbs like licorice, echinacea and ginseng can do that.

We have some research to support yoga and pranayama. Pranayama is a breathing practice within the yoga tradition, and that makes sense because asthma is a problem with the airways and obstruction of the airways. And we can see how certain breathing techniques might actually be helpful in that situation. And there is little evidence that it can cause harm. Yoga and pranayama also have other benefits like stress management, relaxation, improving sleep, and then the same is true for other breathing techniques and exercises. There are a number of different breathing techniques out there and progressive relaxation techniques and exercises that can be really helpful.

Probiotics, I mentioned earlier, but I want to mention them again in this different context because what we’ve come to understand about probiotics is that they’re really more than anything else, immune regulators. So we used to think that probiotics had a kind of like fill-up-the-tank-with-bacteria effect, which is, like, if you're low on beneficial bacteria, then you dump in some probiotics and it fills up your tank with good beneficial bacteria. So it turns out that's not really how probiotics work. In most cases probiotics do not permanently colonize the digestive tract, but they do have huge benefits while you're taking them. And one of those benefits is to kind of tune and regulate the immune system. So I like to explain to my patients that probiotics are immune-regulating supplements as much as anything else. So that explains why they could be very helpful for asthma. And I’ve seen quite a bit of research suggesting that probiotics can be helpful in alleviating asthma.

And then if asthma is severe and none of these other things have been helpful, it may be worth considering low-dose naltrexone. This is a low dose of a medication that reduces inflammation in the central nervous system and helps balance and regulate the immune system, in part by increasing endorphin production. I've written and spoken about LDN before. We don't have time to go into further detail here, but if you go to ChrisKresser.com and you search for “LDN” or you search in Google for “Chris Kresser and LDN” or “low-dose naltrexone,” you’ll find what you need.

Okay, everybody that's it for now. Hope this was helpful. Thanks again, Jenny, for sending in your question, and everybody else, please do keep sending in your questions in to ChrisKresser.com/podcastquestion. Talk to you next time.

The post RHR: How to Address the Root Cause of Your Asthma appeared first on Chris Kresser.

Source: http://chriskresser.com November 01, 2018 at 01:12AM